


Trying To Trace My Steps Back To You

by StandinShadow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, Child Abandonment, Fluff and Angst, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, Minor Character Death, Self-Esteem Issues, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-04 19:20:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StandinShadow/pseuds/StandinShadow
Summary: When he's 12, Lance has a crush on his best friend, a shy, tall boy whose too sensitive for his own good. At 18, Lance is vexed by his new roommate, an aloof, short guy whose way too hotheaded.It takes him awhile to figure out they're the same person.(Or the very loose Ao Haru Ride college AU no one asked for).





	1. First Crush

Lance Ramirez meets Keith outside of school, knees covered in a thin layer of dirt from soccer practice. Keith almost can’t stand how cool Lance looks. Lance is just so sporty and cool, like the tall, lithe athletes on the posters that decorate Keith’s bedroom. Keith has no idea why Lance plays soccer of all things when he clearly loves swimming more, but Keith knows Lance is favorite soccer player and that he loves his uniform. Keith will maybe die if Lance makes the junior high starting team next year.

Keith takes a deep breath when Lance comes toward where he’s sitting on the bleachers, making little patterns with his shoes in the dirt. His short black hair is messily hanging in his eyes, bangs growing out of the makeshift undercut they gave him. Lance’s own has held up better, soft curls pressing against his forehead. Lance glances around, and Keith knows he’s looking for the kids who bully Keith on a regular basis and tries to hide his blush. Keith’s shy, quiet, and he reacts to _everything_ and usually by crying, though there’s been more and more yelling the older they get. Sometimes Keith wonders about what will happen when he finally turns 13 and becomes a teenager. Maybe Keith will be the badass one and Lance will be the wilting flower.

But honestly, that’s a problem for seventh grade Keith to worry about. Sixth grade Keith just wants to hang out with his best friend for the first time in a week.

“Hey, It’s a good thing we play different sports,” Keith muses as Lance sits down, glancing at him thoughtfully through his eyelashes. Lance blinks, shaking his head a little and Keith winces as he realizes how weird that must have sounded. Lance probably thinks he’s mad at him or maybe even something worse. Keith smiles at Lance, soft and a little sheepish, brushing their shoulders together as he leans back on the bench. Lance grins after a moment, and Keith bites back a sigh of relief.

 “What? Why?” Lance asks after a beat, lazily throwing one arm over Keith’s shoulder and Keith leans into Lance and smiles a little when the other boy doesn’t pull away. One of the reasons Keith thinks Lance might have a crush back is that Lance always lets Keith hold his hand, even though Keith knows they’re getting kind of old for that if it’s just a friend thing. Keith always grabbed Lance’s hand at 9 too, but no one has _real_ crushes at 9. Not like someone does at 12 or Keith does on Lance.

 “You’d hate me. I’m not good at teamwork,” Keith admits with a small sigh, some of the sheepishness from his smile bleeding into his voice. Doubles’ teams were assigned today and Keith hasn’t been given a partner. Just like in fifth grade. Lance squeezes Keith’s shoulder softly and Keith guesses that Lance has caught on. He’s one of the fastest players on the team, but no one wants to play with him. Well, no one wants to talk to him. Keith is shy, barely talking to anyone outside of Lance and a few other kids in their lunch group. No one really knows him (and when he’s older, a small, worried part of Keith will wonder if it’s because it’s what he deserved).

“You’d have gotten it after a little bit,” Lance assures Keith with a gentle smile as he lifts his hand from Keith’s shoulder to ruffle his hair. Keith scowls playfully as he bats his hand away, but he’s smiling by the time it falls to Lance’s side. “Still think you’d like soccer more than tennis. Plus then we could spend more time together.”

 “We already spend most of our time together,” Keith points out with a small snort, shaking his head a little as he glances over at Lance. Lance shrugs just a hair defensively, and Keith winces because he was trying to sound cool. They haven’t spent as much time together lately, not with his dad being sick. Keith misses Lance. Keith leans forward, ducking his head so Lance can’t see his face. Keith’s been doing that more and more lately, and he knows it bothers Lance. They’ve never had secrets. But he’s not ready to talk about his dad with anyone either. “But that’d be nice.”

 “Keith … we’re 12,” Lance murmurs, and Keith glances up at him as he pushes away his worries to focus on his friend’s words. Lance grips him by the shoulder, gaze nervous as he runs his free hand through his hair. He smiles softly, gazing at Keith meaningfully as he seems to wait for Keith to catch on to him. Keith is … he’s not catching on. He doesn’t most of the time.

 “I’m aware,” Keith finally says, scrunching his eyebrows together. Lance bites his lip and Keith can tell the other boy’s trying not to throw his hands up in frustration. Keith cocks his head a little, pressing his mouth into a thin line as he tries to decipher Lance’s words. “What, you want to give an early birthday gift?”

“Yeah. Kind of,” Lance mutters as he suddenly pulls his hand back to press his own together as he stares off into the distance for a moment. Then Lance turns his gaze back to Keith, surprisingly serious as bites his lip. “You’re my best friend. You’re really loyal and devoted, and you care so much about the things you care about and – I’m really lucky to be one of them. I like you.”

 Keith feels the blood rush to his cheeks as he glances down at his lap, because he knows Lance can’t mean it the way it sounds. Not when Lance is so cool and Keith is an impulsive crybaby. Even if they’re best friends, someone like Lance would never like someone like Keith. He must just mean as friends. Keith takes a deep breath and glances back up at Lance with a crooked smile and tries to will his blush away. “I … like you too?”

 “No, I mean I _like_ you,” Lance explains, voice barely more than a whisper as he glances down at the withered grass beneath them. Keith lets out a small squeak of surprise before he can stop himself, and Lance’s eyes shoot up so fast it’d almost be funny if Keith’s heart didn’t feel like it was beating out of his chest.

 “Oh,” Keith finally says, knowing his entire face is red as he leans over to lace his fingers through Lance’s own, glancing down at them with a soft smile. It’s the same as always, but somehow better this time. Because this time Lance likes _him_. “Well, I like you too.”

 Lance squeezes Keith’s hand back gently, smiling goofily as he leans forward and then leans back. Keith knows that his own expression matches his friend, and he giggles a little as Lance’s brings his free hand down to start drawing little designs on Keith’s other hand. Normally he’s the touchy feely one, not Lance. “Well good, glad we’re on the same page.”

 “Me too,” Keith answers with a small nod, suddenly grabbing Lance’s other hand so they’re holding both of them. Lance glances down at them and then back at Keith, expression painfully cute. Keith knows he’s still blushing and he wants to die. Lance knows that he likes him, which is okay because Lance likes him too and Wait. He and Lance both just said they liked each other and are holding hands. This is a _big_ deal. “So does this mean you’re my boyfriend?”

 “I guess so,” Lance answers back with a small smirk that grows wider as something devilish enters his gaze. Keith swallows because he knows that look, and it usually means they’re going to do something awesome but dangerous (it’s admittedly usually in Keith’s eyes and not Lance’s, which is part of what makes this so weird). “That means you have to kiss me, you know.”

 “Oh, right,” Keith says after a beat, suddenly letting go of Lance’s hands to stand up. He takes two steps forward, body stiff, before turning around to find himself face to face with Lance. Well, face to forehead, because Keith’s the tallest kid in sixth grade and Lance is one of the shortest, which – Oh. Keith grins playfully before leaning over to kiss Lance’s forehead, pulling back with a small sigh of relief. He likes Lance, but he’s not ready to kiss for real yet. Not until at least seventh grade.

 “I can’t believe you’re using your height against me,” Lance says, throwing one hand over his heart dramatically and closing his eyes as though he’s been wounded. Keith scoffs and then full on laughs, shaking his head as he bumps Lance with his shoulder. Lance opens his eyes and smiles lazily, gaze playful as he glances up at Keith.

 “Always will,” Keith promises, because he’s always been taller than Lance, and he doubts that will ever change. His dad isn’t that tall, but Keith’s positive his mom was. Dad doesn’t have any photos of her and won’t talk about her, but Keith knows he looks more like her than his dad. Everyone in town tells him often enough. Keith glances over at Lance and frowns because 20 minutes ago they were just friends and now they’re dating and Keith has to go to the hospital soon. “So … now what?”

 Lance stares at him blankly for a minute before seeming to catch on, eyes widening as he frowns softly, one hand coming to rest under his chin. Apparently he hadn’t about what came after telling Keith how he felt. Then Lance smiles, suddenly poking Keith in the chest with his index finger. “Oh! Umm, you want to go on a date? Maybe walk around the park on Saturday and buy food from the carts?”

 “We do that already,” Keith tells him with a small shake of his head, frowning a little because shouldn’t their first date be special? Shouldn’t he make it something super cool? After all Lance was the brave one, so Keith owed him an awesome first date. But Keith wings pretty much everything, and he has no idea how to wing a date. On TV everyone always had parties or fights to go to, and Keith doesn’t get invited to parties.

 “Not with handholding,” Lance says softly as he smiles over at Keith knowingly, and Keith raises his eyebrows. He didn’t realize his anxiety showed on his face. He smiles back crookedly, leaning forward to playfully stick his tongue out at Lance.

 “Sometimes we did,” Keith reminds Lance, gaze shy as he thinks back to all those times Lance led him around as a little kid, boldly going up to strangers when Keith was too shy to ask for things. He’s better than that now, but Keith has never wanted to hold Lance’s hand more than he does right now. But he needs to go see his dad. “But yeah, yeah, let’s do that.”

 “Good, I’ll see you Saturday,” Lance answers him with a soft smile as Keith gives him a quick hug goodbye, glancing back at his boyfriend fondly every few steps until Lance finally fades from view.

(Keith doesn’t see Lance again for another five and a half years, but it is on a Friday).

* * *

Lance waits for Keith in the park for hours; the quiet dings of his texts going unanswered. The light is starting to fade and Lance pulls at the edge of his hoodie sleeve, azure threads dangling against his fingertips. That’s not what Lance thought he’d be holding tonight. Lance glances at his phone again and bites his lip, because he was sure they’d said Saturday. But Keith isn’t the type to just not show up. Well, sometimes Keith does things on impulse, but he always lets Lance know where he is and usually drags him along. This radio silence is strange and it’s making Lance feel like something’s wrong. Something big.

Maybe Keith realized he doesn’t like Lance after all, or that someone cuter liked him, because there are at least three kids in class who have a crush on Keith. Keith’s never noticed because Keith doesn’t even know he’s cute, even though he’s got those big eyes and soft smiles, but plenty of other people do. Or worse, maybe Keith’s hurt or sick or maybe he didn’t look both ways while crossing the street – he doesn’t when he’s in a hurry – or gotten into a fight and lost. There are so many different bad options and all of them could be true. Lance hates this and he’s about to cry in frustration when he sees short black hair and a red hoodie by a food truck.

Lance jogs over, smiling sheepishly and ready to ask Keith why he’s so late, or if they maybe they’d been missing each other all night. That’d make a cute romantic comedy. Keith doesn’t like most of them, but Lance loves them and Keith will watch them if Lance lets him put on cheesy anime afterwards, so maybe Keith’s even trying to give him that kind of moment. That’s a thing Keith would do. Lance reaches over and grabs the other boy’s arm.

 “Keith?” Lance asks in a soft voice as he grabs the other boy’s arm, but when he turns around he’s met with freckles and green eyes. The boy is at least a few years older than Lance, gaze narrowing as Lance slowly pulls his hand back. Not Keith. Lance feels the tears from earlier starting to slip out, and he bites his lip to try and stop them, anxiousness and hot shame making his skin burn. This must be how Keith feels all the time. “Sorry, you look a little like my friend.”

The older boy nods softly and walks away, not wanting to deal with a crying stranger. Lance can’t say he blames him. He goes to stand by the entrance again, watching as the hours tick by and the sun goes down. Still no sign of Keith. Lance has gotten five texts from his siblings asking how his dates going and his eyes well up with tears again. He doesn’t want to face the embarrassment of telling everyone Keith, his best friend, stood him up.

 “I guess he’s not coming after all,” Lance sighs when it’s 20 minutes before his curfew and a good hour after Keith’s, slowly walking out of the park and down the street. He never even got dinner. Keith better have a really good excuse tomorrow when he comes over to apologize.

Except Keith doesn’t come over to apologize on Sunday and he doesn’t respond to any of Lance’s texts or messages. He doesn’t reply on Monday either, and what’s the point of a three-day weekend if his best friend/boyfriend is ignoring him? Lance spends most of it inside moping in different positions on his bed while his sisters took turns telling him it would be okay. Lance isn’t so sure about that. Lance is genuinely worried now, afraid that Keith must be furious at him or seriously hurt. There don’t seem like there are other explanations for them going this long without talking when they haven’t since they were 8.

On Tuesday, Lance sits in his desk and glances next to him, smiling anxiously as he waits for Keith to walk toward the door. He never comes. Lance waits until after attendance to softly slide out of his desk and go to his teacher, whose busily shuffling papers before she starts their first lesson. Normally she’d reprimand him for not raising his hand, but his worries most show in his tight frown, because she just smiles softly at him. Lance takes a deep breath and asks the question that he almost doesn’t want an answer to now.  “Mrs. Jones? Where’s Keith?”

 “You don’t know?” Mrs. Jones says, not quite able to keep the surprise out of her voice. Lance shakes his head a little, because he doesn’t know and that is as weird as she thinks it is. Lance knows everything about Keith. Mrs. Jones glances at him, voice careful as she speaks. “He had to transfer schools. He moved districts.”

 “What? His family moved?” Lance cries, loud enough to draw stares and quiet murmurs from the rest of the room. Lance doesn’t care, his head is spinning. Keith moved? Why wouldn’t Keith tell him if he were moving? Why would he ignore all his messages? Why would he agree to be Lance’s boyfriend if he knew he was leaving? None of this made any sense.

 “No, his family didn’t move,” Mrs. Jones says softly, gaze sad and far away as she glances down at him. A beat passes before her words hit Lance more fully, his stomach dropping in his chest. Keith moved but his dad didn’t. Lance doesn’t understand what that means, but he knows all the awful things it could and he wants to cry. Keith is gone and he’s gone for reasons that must have hurt him, and Lance can’t protect him. And he won’t answer Lance’s texts. Everything feels ruined. “I’m very sorry, Lance.”

Lance nods wordlessly as he goes back to his seat, the rest of the day going by in a blur. A week after Keith disappears from his life, the number he’s texting responds to him and tells him that it’s not Keith. His email sends his message back a few days after that. Keith’s social media, the little that he had, goes silent. Every sign that his best friend ever existed is gone in a month. Lance still searches for him on Facebook and twitter and even tumblr, gets too excited by every kid who either mentions hippos or swords or both in their bio.

But none of them are ever Keith, and a month turns into a year, and Lance becomes best friends with a new boy named Hunk whose smile is like the sun and wonders if Keith would feel betrayed. Another year passes and Lance stops checking social media as often. Two years after that Lance only checks once every few months and he’s starting to forget the sound of Keith’s voice. Lance moves on, even if a part of him is still twelve and standing next to the hotdog cart, searching for soft smiles that were just for him.

But Lance knows that’s childish. He’s 18 now and he and Hunk are dragging their suitcases across cobblestone, the ancient seeming buildings that made up Altea University surrounding him. It’s time to look forward with his best friend, not back at a past he can’t fix. After all, Lance is nothing if not an optimist.

 “Hunk, my man, it’s the first day of college, look alive,” Lance says with a bright grin as he playfully elbows Hunk, who glances over at him with a tired gaze, the hand not on his suitcase gripping his coffee like it’s a precious jewel. Lance has been up for two hours already, writing out his entire plan for making friends and scoring dates in college and excitedly showing it to his parents, who nodded politely and complimented Lance on how thorough his is. Lance wants to have the best four years he can before he goes into the real world, which means he and Hunk need to be ready to make friends and take names or whatever.

 “I’m very alive, but very tired. Just confused about why we had to get her at 6:00 AM?” Hunk asks with a small sigh, though his gaze is more teasing than anything else. Apparently Hunk hasn’t been paying attention to the plan.

 “The earlier we’re here, the more people we can meet,” Lance reminds him as he playfully bumps Hunk with his shoulder, Hunk barely moving but letting out a small “okay” that doesn’t sound too convinced. Hunk glances over at another kid with a mattress and Lance isn’t sure he’s ever seen Hunk look so jealous before. He maybe should’ve let his friend sleep a few more hours, but Lance is just so excited to be here. He grins up at Hunk, wriggling his eyebrows. “Besides, don’t you want to meet some cute guys or girls?”

 “I have a girlfriend,” Hunk reminds him with a small frown that quickly slides into a fond smile, gaze far away as he thinks of Shay. Shay is perfect for Hunk, sweet but strong. She’s going to an Arts college about half an hour away, and Lance already knows he’s going to spend every other weekend alone in his dorm room. It’s why he hopes their suite mate is someone cool. They scored an awesome room – they only share a bathroom with one other person – and Lance kind of hopes the three of them end up becoming a trio of awesome.

 “But you could always use more friends, and I don’t a boyfriend or a girlfriend,” Lance reminds him as they push their way through the front door of their building, going halfway down the hallway before finding their room. Lance sighs in relief that the first floor is actually the first floor, because he’s got a lot of stuff to unpack. When Lance goes to open the door, he notices that the door next door is being held open with a small slab of wood. He pokes Hunk in the shoulder and then points at the slab, watching as Hunk’s gaze narrows. “Hey, our suite mate is already here!”

 “Don’t use a pickup line on him yet, we have to live with him,” Hunk mutters as he opens the door, and Lance goes by him, dropping his suitcase by the bed nearest the bathroom wall. Hunk’s a light sleeper, so Lance decides he should take the bed closest to their new roommate until they know for sure how loud he is. A kindness Hunk should appreciate given that little jab.

 “Have a little faith, Hunk,” Lance says as the other boy sits his own suitcase down. Hunk snorts a little, and Lance can practically see every bad pick up line he’s ever used flashing across Hunk’s eyes in big neon letters. Hurtful. Now he has to prove Hunk wrong. Lance walks across the room and into the bathroom, surprised to find the door to the other boy’s room wide open.

Lance isn’t sure he’s going to be able to keep his promise after all as he’s faced with a perfectly toned ass and thin but muscular legs leading up to a small waist and narrow yet well-muscled shoulders, a thick black ponytail brushing against the mystery man’s neck. He was definitely cute and Lance hasn’t even seen his face yet.

 “Hey, man, I’m Lance Ramirez,” Lance calls out, holding his schedule in front of him as though to create a barrier between him and the other boy. Smooth first impression, Lancey Lance. The other boy turns around and Lance internally gasps because shit, his face is cute too. Big eyes with long eyelashes stare back at him blankly under perfect eyebrows, thin but well-shaped lips frowning softly beneath high cheekbones. The boy was angular, but there was still a hint of softness in his face that made it beautiful, almost delicate. It also felt strangely familiar.

 “Keith Shirogane,” The other boy says, a look of surprise flitting across his face that quickly fades away as he cocks his head at Lance. He gives him an expectant look, and maybe he’s waiting for Lance to hit on him. He couldn’t be the first one to have tried today. But Lance needs to prove Hunk wrong, and he doesn’t actually want to get off on the wrong foot with this Keith. Though he might not have a choice, because suddenly Keith glances down at his schedule and smirks in a way that’s more bitter than arrogant, voice almost harsh when he next speaks. “Looks like we have the same major, for now anyway.”

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance asks, raising an eyebrow as he leans forward a little bit, gaze challenging. This Keith blinks at him owlishly, and then winces, gaze dropping to the floor for a minute with a tight stare. It reminds Lance of his Keith whenever he accidentally said something stupid or got nervous, and Lance’s heart twists a little in his chest.

 “Nothing, just, it’s a hard major,” Keith mumbles, shaking his head a little as he gives Lance an expression that’s almost a smile, though it doesn’t quite get there. He trails off, glancing at Lance and bites his lips before he shrugs a little. If Lance wasn’t still offended by what he’d just said, he’d almost think this Keith was cute, in a socially awkward way. But right now he’s still a little bit annoyed. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

 “Thanks?” Lance says after a beat, and the other boy crosses his arms. Lance would think it was from annoyance if he didn’t know that his Keith did that whenever he felt anxious or uncomfortable. Maybe Lance should stop correlating them, but Lance’s gaze softens as he grins over at this Keith, whose expression softens after a minute, his own smile small and crooked.

 “I shower in the morning before practice, I’ll try to keep it down so you don’t wake up,” Keith says suddenly, the smile disappearing as the blank look from before returns, though his eyebrows are scrunched together in a way that gives off an air of sadness and annoyance at the same time. Lance blinks a little, trying to take Keith’s words in and understand the sudden mood shift. Keith gives him a look Lance can’t decipher before he spoke again. “I’m pretty quiet.”

 “Cool, we we’re gonna check out the campus if you want to come with?” Lance answers with another bright grin, hoping to regain that soft atmosphere from a few minutes ago. It had felt good, safe and Lance misses it even though he’s never had it before. At least not with this guy.

 “I need to finish packing,” Keith answers shortly as he takes a step back, giving Lance a clear no without having to verbalize it. Lance cocks his head a little before nodding, trying to hide the hurt he felt at being rejected, though he knows his eyebrows are sloped downward as he turns around, not expecting the other boy to bother speaking to him again right now. Maybe he’ll open up in a few days after the first day jitters have passed. Except then Keith calls out to him. “You’ll like the café by the lake.”

 “What?” Lance says as he looks over his shoulder, and there’s something both lost and longing in Keith’s gaze. Lance stares at him, the big eyes and soft half-smile and remembers things he’s forced himself to forget. This is not the first time he’s seen that expression.

 “Don’t worry about it and try to keep it down on the weekends, some of us have to study,” Keith mutters before pulling the door shut before Lance can say anything. He blinks and slowly comes back to reality and runs a hand through his hair, because okay, what was he even going to say? ‘Hey, new Keith, I had a childhood friend named Keith and you like him and kind of act like him’? All that would get Lance is pity at best, and the other boy outright avoiding him or switching rooms at worst. Besides, it’s a stupid thing to have thought. That guy isn’t Keith. Well. Not his Keith.

 “Well, how’d it go?” Hunk asks with a small grin as Lance steps out of the bathroom, his clothes already spread out across his bed in even piles and patterns. Lance knows their room is going to be one of the most organized on campus, because Hunk thinks like a engineer and he always knows how to use space and time perfectly and all that engineering stuff (Hunk will later tell Lance that he just marathoned a lot of HGTV that summer when Lance was at swim training, but Hunk’s still a genius either way).

 “Awkwardly,” Lance admits with a small laugh, shaking his head with mock hurt when Hunk’s eyebrows raise with a questioning look. Lance sits down on his own bed, gaze dropping to the floor and voice going low as he speaks again, voice sounding oddly lonely given that his best friend was only a few feet away from him. “He reminds me of my Keith though, on a bad day.”

 “Lance …” Hunk begins and then stops, gaze soft as he comes over to rest a hand on Lance’s shoulder, giving him a gentle look that’s halfway between a smile and a grimace. Hunk’s the only person besides his family to know his Keith situation, the memory of his friend having slowly faded as he moved up in grades and had new classmates and friends who weren’t in his sixth grade class.

 “It’s fine, they’re not the same person, I know,” Lance answers with a pained smile as he glances up at his friend, even though a small part of him insists that was his Keith, that he knows those eyes. Lance tells that part to shut up, because Keith’s gone. It’s been five and a half years and Lance has found no trace of him. He’s not coming back in the form of pretty awkward boys Lance lives with. “He has a different last name and he’s short.”

 “I’m sure you’ll find him someday, who knows maybe you’re already friends on Wattpad,” Hunk throws out, tone gentle but confident as Lance nods, wishing he had as much faith in himself as Hunk did. They find the café by the lake on their walk and Lance stares at the lake with a soft smile. New Keith is right, he does like it. He doesn’t see the other boy when they go the new students party or back in their room that night or the next morning, and Lance is surprised at how sad that makes him.

* * *

 Keith writes furiously, trying to get everything the dean says down in his notebook. Keith doesn’t want to break any rules. He’s done that too many times in the past, and he’s not going to again now that he’s finally on the right track. He can’t afford to, either. He’s aged out, and the Shiroganes don’t deserve to deal with a problem child if he can’t thrive. Keith has to live up to all that potential everyone keeps claiming he’d have if he wasn’t well. Himself. Keith can’t afford distractions.

Which is why it’s frustrating when Lance and his ridiculously long legs come sauntering in, shorts showing off the lean muscles there. Keith glances up at his face to find Lance’s bright blue eyes staring back at him, smile so gentle Keith wants to live in it and look away at the same time. It’s the worst distraction he can imagine and Lance lives right next door to him. Keith has no idea how he’s going survive this year without switching rooms. And now Lance is coming toward him here too, gaze soft and curious in a way that makes Keith’s heart clench. This is not good.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?” Lance asks in a low whisper, though he’s still loud enough that Keith’s pretty sure the entire row can hear him. Keith raises an eyebrow at that, crossing his arms a little bit as a few people glance toward them. He hates attention.

 

“Fine by me,” Keith finally murmurs, biting back a sigh as Lance slides into the chair next to him, grinning and giving Keith a once over. Keith knows he turned out … kind of weird-looking, too angular and yet too soft, small with teeth just a little too crooked. Not like Lance, who looks like a model, all lean muscle with perfect, blindingly white teeth and a slouch that disguises just how tall he really is. It's unfair.  Keith glances away from Lance when he realizes he's staring and turns back to his notes, because he's already missed at least a few things the Dean said. Keith can only hope none of it was important.

“You’re taking a lot of notes,” Lance murmurs as he glances over Keith’s shoulder. Keith leans forward to cover his notes, glaring lightly at the other boy, eyebrows scrunched together. Why did Lance care about what he was writing anyway? Lance seems to catch on, turning away from Keith to stare at Dean Coran, who was excitedly gesturing at a diagram of two stick figures holding hands. At least Keith hadn’t missed anything that applied to him. “Wow, look at his suit. It’s like, periwinkle. That’s brave. Are you taking any extracurriculars?”

 Keith twists in his seat, frowning softly as Lance stares at him with a warm smile, as though he’s not just ignoring their dean. Keith frowns pointedly, crossing his arms, but unlike most cases Lance doesn’t turn away out of fear or annoyance. Though Keith doesn’t think he’s too far from the latter, given the slight twitch in his eyebrow. He just needs to push a little more. “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

 “Because I wanna get to know my suite mate?” Lance throws out, tone a little clipped as his eyebrows lower a tad. Keith’s successfully annoyed him and he hates how his stomach drops at that. Keith doesn’t have time to make nice with people; he has goals and a four-year plan. But … Lance hasn’t done anything wrong, and being on speaking terms with his suite mate means _some_ people won’t get mad at him for not making friends. They don’t have to actually _be_ friends. Keith knows caring usually only gets you hurt in the long run, and he already cares about someone. Besides this is better for Lance too.

 “Oh, okay,” Keith mutters, glancing over at Lance and then up at the ceiling, counting tiles as he tries to think of something to share or at least something that will make the butterflies stop ramming into the walls of his stomach. Sports. Sports are a thing. “I’m on the soccer team.”

 “That’s awesome!” Lance says with a bright grin, eyes lighting up as he leans toward Keith with his pen dangling between his fingertips. Keith blinks a little, cocking his head at how warm that expression on Lance’s face is, and he can feel himself mirroring it reflexively. “I used to play soccer when I was a kid.”

 “Why’d you stop?” Keith asks before he can stop himself, frowning a little as he eyebrows slope down. Lance gives him an unreadable look, frowning a little as he peers at Keith more intensely, as though trying to find cryptids in his eyes. Keith hopes he doesn’t, because first of all cryptids are his thing, and second, Keith can’t let him find anything there. Keith ducks his head, gazing down at his knees and ignoring Lance’s sharp intake of breath.

 “I decided to do swimming instead and I was in a really bad band,” Lance mutters softly and Keith finally looks up again to meet his gaze. Lance looks almost apologetic, and Keith turns back to his notes before he can make things any worse than he already has. Keith doesn’t want Lance to get hurt. Keith just wants him to leave him alone so they can both be okay.

 “You … I’m most kids’ bands are,” Keith says with a small shrug, giving Lance a half-smile before turning back to his notes. There, awkward moment avoided, pleasant but meaningless conversation achieved. Maybe Keith isn’t so bad at this anymore. Keith turns his attention back to Dean Coran, who is explaining the rules about ordering food from off campus. Keith hurriedly writes down everything he says, which is mostly about how they need to go to door themselves, they can’t let the delivery man inside because he’s a _stranger_. It’s the third time in the past two days Keith has suddenly felt like he was 12 again.

 “Yep,” Lance murmurs suddenly, and Keith glances at him with a frown, raising one eyebrow sharply. He thought they were done with small talk for today. Lance apparently did not, going by his cheery grin. Keith wishes he didn’t like it. “So, meet anyone fun?”

 “I was in my room,” Keith answers in a clipped voice, grip on his pen growing tighter. Lance looks away from him and back to Dean Coran, so Keith thinks Lance has caught on that he’s not looking to talk right now. Keith tries to follow what Dean Coran is saying about exercise. He starts doing pushups halfway though as though to show them the concept of it, and Keith’s not sure he’s said anything about the actual gym yet. Keith wonders if other freshman orientation’s are this in depth or this bizarre (the answer on both counts is no).

 Suddenly Keith feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around to find Lance staring at him, long fingers pressed against his chin like he’s posing for a headshot. It’s his flirting face. “Right. Well Hunk and I walked by the lake and met this girl building her own pet robot. It looked like a squirrel –“

 “Are you going to pay attention or not?” Keith cuts him off in a voice that’s harsher than he intended, crossing his arms tightly against his chest as glares softly at the other boy. Lance blinks owlishly, flailing so hard that he nearly tips over, only saved by Keith grabbing the arm of his chair and pulling it back down with a small sigh. Lance isn’t used to being ignored, apparently. Keith can’t say he’s surprised, when Lance has a face and legs like that, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

 “To orientation?” Lance finally asks in disbelief, raising his eyebrows as Keith gives him a blank stare, because yeah, during orientation. Some of them had scholarships to maintain. Keith barely keeps himself from saying that, choosing to let the way he wordlessly turns back to his notes speak for him. Lance lets out an annoyed whine, and Keith can see his pout and narrowed gaze without looking up from his notes. “Sorry for trying to be nice and get to know you, when apparently you’re just an aloof asshole.”

 “I’m here to learn, not to make friends,” Keith answers defensively, glancing at Lance out of the corner of his eye as his mouth falls open in surprise. He hasn’t been called that in awhile. Most people were either too afraid of him or had never heard him speak before. But Lance is calling him that even though all Keith is trying to do is take a few notes without being distracted every five minutes by someone he _can’t_ become friends with. It is unfair.

 “Well then you probably shouldn’t be studying stardust,” Lance mutters hotly, getting close up in his face, blue eyes so cold that Keith can feel his skin start to crack beneath his gaze. It’s one he’s seen before, but not on he ever thought would be directed at him. Keith bites his lip and turns away, trying to erase the way he feels like he just got sucker punched in the gut.

 “Because it means we’re all connected, even you and me,” Keith mutters before he can stop himself, words spilling from his throat and turning into little daggers, all aimed at him. Keith considers bolting from his chair for a second but decides that would be too suspicious in the moment. Keith doesn’t need to look at Lance to feel the other boy’s piercing gaze on the back of his neck.

 “What …” Lance starts, glancing over him with wide eyes, grabbing his arm with a ferocity Keith doesn’t expect. Keith winces, lips twisting into a grimace and eyebrows scrunching together. Maybe Lance didn’t hear him; maybe he’s just confused because he doesn’t see how someone like him could be connected to Keith. Maybe, but that doesn’t explain the soft, tortured expression on Lance’s face as he holds Keith in place. Only one thing does. “Keith?”

* * *

  Lance stares at Keith, who’s staring back with wild eyes, mouth hanging open slightly as he stares back at Lance like he’s not the one whose been lying by omission for the past two days. Lance sighs, pressing his lips into a thin line before glancing at the door nearest them and then back at Keith pointedly, because screw his notes. Keith gives an almost imperceptible nod. Lance climbs out of his seat and rushes to the door, relieved when he hears soft footsteps behind him. Keith actually came this time. Small wonders.

When they’re outside, Lance takes another couple of steps forward until their near an oak tree, thick and heavy, and he leans against and lets out a ragged breath. Next to him, Keith glances down at the ground, kicking the dirt with his foot like he used to when they were kids, expression so lost that Lance almost forgets that he’s mad at him. Almost. But one moment of Keith being adorable isn’t going to erase five years of questions (that would take at least six moments of Keith being adorable, maybe seven).

“You’re Keith. Keith Kim. _My_ Keith,” Lance spits out, throwing his arms up in the air as he stares at Keith, half expecting him to deny it and walk out of Lance’s life again. Instead Keith ducks his head, bangs falling across his face and obscuring his eyes so Lance can’t tell what he’s thinking. They always used to give him away. Lance wonders if they still do, or if they’re just as strange and alien as the rest of Keith is now. Keith, who is here and alive.

 “Yeah, I was wondering when you’d notice,” Keith finally mutters as he looks up at Lance with a grimace, gaze sheepish as Lance stares back at him incredulously. Keith crosses his arms tightly, and now that he’s not looking at the ground Lance can see the anxiety in his gaze. At least some things haven’t changed.

 “When did you?” Lance asks softly as he stares at Keith, bitter expression softening a little as Keith bites his lip fearfully. It’s hard to stay mad when Keith’s acting like a wounded animal. Mostly he just wants to try and find whoever hurt him and give them a piece of his mind and all of his fists. Keith’s always brought this out of him, this protectiveness, even now when he’s furious at the other boy and his stupid mullet.

 “Right away, you look pretty much the same, just longer,” Keith admits softly, giving Lance a crooked smile as he glances up at him. Up. Keith is shorter than him.

 “Yeah well, you barely got longer,” Lance mutters, because for some reason that’s weirder to him than anything else so far. Lance blinks at the revelation, shaking his head a little as he glances down at the other boy, who must be at least three inches shorter than him. Lance smirks triumphantly for a second, but the expression grows bitter as he remembers that he didn’t get to see that happen in real life. Lance didn’t get to grow up with Keith, and even though it’s not Keith’s fault, it feels like it is. “Wow, you’re kind of short, huh?”

 Keith’s eyes widen as he stares up at Lance, looking betrayed as though he’s offended that Lance ended up taller than him. Lance snorts softly, leaning forward a little with a harsh stare. Keith matches it with one of his own, eyebrows sloping forward and down like they used to during every petty fight when they were kids. Lance misses this too. “It’s like an inch and a half!”

 “Yeah, maybe with your boots on,” Lance says pointedly as he glances down at Keith’s bright red flip-flops. Keith follows his gaze, lips forming into a small ‘o’ of surprise. Lance smiles down at him fondly, and Keith flushes when he meets Lance’s gaze, expression open and vulnerable, and Lance feels the knife twist deeper in his chest. Because Keith didn’t want to have it, not really. “But seriously, why the hell did you lie about your last name?”

 “I didn’t, my name got changed with my last foster home,” Keith answers, confirming fears Lance already had, voice growing distant as he glances away from Lance and towards the sky. It’s a clear sign he’s lying, but Lance doesn’t feel like he has the right to push. Not now that they’re 18 and not 12.

 “Were you … okay, but that still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me you were you,” Lance snaps, voice growing tight mid-sentence as he remembers why he’s mad in the first place. Keith disappeared for five years without so much as a word, erased himself from the world so fully that sometimes Lance wondered if he made him up completely. And then he has the audacity to show up here, beautiful and sad-eyed and acting like the six and a half years that have haunted Lance meant nothing to him when Lance knows that can’t be true.

 “Because I’m not,” Keith mutters in a bored voice, going for indifference, though Lance can see the turmoil swirling in his gaze as he takes a step back from Lance, as though compelled. Then the expression and all the little things Lance remembers from when they were kids fades away. Keith smirks over at Lance with dull eyes, voice empty of anything on his next words. It’s terrifying. “Keith Kim is dead.”

 “Yeah, whatever, Taylor!” Lance shouts as Keith turns on a heel and walks away at a pace that manages to be casual and impossibly fast at the same time. Lance slumps against the oak tree, banging his head softly against the bark and not caring for once if his hair got messed up. Keith’s alive and fine and – and he doesn’t want to be Lance’s friend, doesn’t want to be anyone’s friend. Keith has a ridiculous mullet and he’s too serious and cold and …

Lance still sees his Keith in that pained gaze and soft smile and he’s going to get him back. Lance protects Keith and that’s not going to change just because it looks like the thing hurting Keith now is Keith.


	2. Partners

Keith takes a deep breath as he pulls on his hoodie, trying to shake off the early morning chill, both from the September air and from Lance’s glare in the room next door. Which might be Keith’s fault and what he wanted, but it doesn’t make their rooming situation any less awkward. He feels kind of bad for Hunk, but that doesn’t stop him from avoiding Lance’s watchful gaze and tight frowns, sitting across the room from him in class and keeping his doors locked at all times.

The only time they’ve interacted since that day is in the early mornings before class, and Lance usually has a toothbrush in his mouth then so he can’t ask Keith any of the questions Keith doesn’t have answers for. Not ones he wants to share, anyway.

Keith glances down at his phone as it dings, lighting up to reveal a text. _Come to my room_. It’s from one of the two RA’s on his floor, and not the one Keith wants to talk to right now. He lets out a low sigh, biting his lip as he walks toward the other room with a sigh. Still doesn’t mean he can keep him waiting. Keith knows what he looks like when’s pissed off, and he doesn’t want to deal with that on top of the tundra that is his dorm room. All Keith wants is to get through the next four years so he can show everyone that he was worth it after.

Being called into the RA’s room within the first month of college doesn’t bode well for that goal. Keith walks into the room and slowly closes the door behind him, crossing his arms a little as he leans against the wall. The other man glances up at him, steely grey eyes giving him a considering look. “You wanted to see me?”

“I talked to one of your suite mates,” The other man says softly though there’s no real emotion in his voice, nothing to give away what he’s talking about at all. Keith feels his stomach churn a little at his words and takes a few step closer to where he’s sits on his bed, wearing black T-shirt and track pants that have a hole at the ankle. He pats the bed next to him and Keith gives him a tight glare, considering his options. Clearly he’s fucked up, but he has no idea how. After a minute, Keith sits down next to the RA, arms still crossed and mind racing with every negative outcome this conversation could have. There are a lot.

“Did you now?” Keith asks, voice tight as he glances up at the other man. He’s stupidly tall; Keith swears everyone at this college is. Keith bites his lips as he nods back at him, gaze a little tired and disappointed. There were few things in the world Keith hated more than that expression.

“Yes, they expressed concerns about your recent behavior,” He says, and now there is a hint of emotion in his voice. Worry. Keith bristles a little at that, crossing his arms more tightly against his chest. He stares down at the floor, not wanting to see that concern again. Keith doesn’t deserve it, and more to the point, he doesn’t need it. He’s fine; he’s always been fine. “You know your RA’s are always here if you’re having … difficulties.”

“What did they say about me?” Keith asks after a beat, glancing up at the taller man with a small frown, glaring a little to try and hide his nerves.

“They said you haven’t been going to the dining hall,” He answers in a gentle voice, and Keith wonders briefly if he’s about to be handed a bunch of pamphlets about time management. Keith doesn’t need those either, he’s done his research and people can survive on 3 to 4 hours asleep as long as they make room for occasional 20 minute naps. It’s just science. Keith decides against saying that out loud though, because he doesn’t want to be accused of taking _Men’s Health_ articles as fact again (which he only did once, anyway).

“Lance told you that? Why does he know that?” Keith snaps, because suddenly the meaning of the other man’s words hit him. Lance is what, spying on him to make sure he eats enough? What is that about? It’s … honestly it’s not completely out of character for Lance, he always worried a lot and he’s pretty sneaky. Keith probably wouldn’t have noticed. But Keith’s trying to protect Lance; it’s not supposed to be the other way around. Not anymore.

“Lance, no. Hunk, he said he’s asked you three times and you’ve said no each time,” The other man says in response, frowning a little as he glances over at Keith. Oh. Keith lets out a small, almost pained sound, and he pretends it’s from relief and not disappointment. He’s staying away from Lance for his own good. Their own good. “Are you having issues with Lance too?”

“No!” Keith shouts, crossing his arms a little tighter as he glares up at the ceiling, gaze darting across the room before it finally lands on the other man, whose expression is growing more judgmental and annoyed with every passing second. Keith’s never been a great liar. “No, I’m not having issues with any of my roommates. I just don’t want to go eat with them.”

“Making friends is important,” Keith hears instead as a gentle hand comes to rest on his shoulder, the smile aimed his way too kind for Keith not crack a little. “So is eating. Are you eating?”

“I’m not a child, _Takashi_ ,” Keith finally mutters as Shiro keeps patting him on the shoulder and looking at him expectantly. Why couldn’t it have been the RA who knew nothing about him Hunk complained to, and not his best friend? Keith doesn’t need Shiro knowing that he doesn’t go to the dining hall or barely sleeps, he’ll worry and call Hinata, and then Keith will have to reassure her that he’s fine too.

“Oh, first name, that means I touched a nerve,” Shiro answers with a smirk, one Keith has learned to fear over the past two years. The next few words out of Shiro’s mouth only reinforce that. “But seriously Keith, how are you adjusting? If I hadn’t signed up to be an RA, I would have gotten an apartment for us.”

“Don’t worry about me, Shiro, I can take care of myself,” Keith promises with a crooked grin as Shiro pulls his arm back, clasping it together with prosthetic hand. “I’m eating enough, just mostly stuff I can make in the microwave so I can focus on studying.”

“That can’t be healthy, Keith, those dry noodles in instant ramen are terrible,” Shiro says softly, scrunching his eyebrows together as he stares over at Keith. Keith knows Shiro has a point. Even Keith knows that the microwave soup and instant ramen and frosted flakes in a mug isn’t exactly the healthiest lifestyle. But he grabs a banana from the gym sometimes, and Keith doesn’t have time to go to the dining hall. He needs perfect grades and he’s really bad at studying.

Except wait. That’s not why Shiro said his diet was unhealthy; it was because of dry noodles. Keith pulls back from Shiro in horror, eyebrows shooting up to his forehead. There’s no way that anyone could make that mistake, not even Shiro, right? “… What are you talking about?”

“I’m joking,” Shiro says with a small chortle, though there’s a hint of offense in his eyes that Keith thought he didn’t know you needed to add water to Instant Ramen. Keith raises an eyebrow pointedly, because Shiro’s also the person who didn’t understand what went wrong when they tried to cook a chicken in the Microwave on _Flavor of Love_. “But it would be nice if you made some friends.”

“So you don’t have to hang out with me all the time?” Keith asks with a scoff as he looks away from Shiro, voice wavering a little. Fuck. He’s not some stupid kid anymore who needs his … best friend with him all the time.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Shiro murmurs with a soft frown, giving Keith the same worried look he used to when Keith got into fights with other kids at school or slept on the floor. Keith crosses his arms a little more tightly against his chest, gazing down at his worn tennis shoes, more brick than bright red now. “Learning to get along with different people is part of growing up, Keith.”

“I’m 18, Shiro, I’m plenty grown up,” Keith reminds Shiro, voice distant and not looking up at Shiro. He doesn’t need pity right now, not from Shiro or … or from anyone else. Keith knows what the score is for him. He has since he was 12. “Besides, like I told La- I’m not here to make friends or get drunk at frat parties. I’m here to get good grades and join the ROTC so I can become part of NASA eventually. You know that.”

“18 isn’t that old, Keith,” Shiro tells him with a small laugh as he ruffles his hair a little, as though to remind Keith of that point. Keith glances up at him, expression becoming more openly anxious as he meets Shiro’s warm gaze and supportive smile. He wishes Shiro were worse at this. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, though I have to admit it makes me happy that you want to follow in my footsteps.”

Keith bites his lip, gazing at the wall as he considers Shiro’s words and let them wash over him. Keith’s always wanted to be just like Shiro since he met him in his mentoring program five years ago, but lately … Keith’s not sure if he wants to go into the military anymore. Keith’s a loner, a hothead, and sometimes he thinks he’d rather study plants than space. But … Shiro is his hero. “Yeah.”

“Keith? Are you okay?” Shiro asks him with the same concerned tone he had before, frowning a bit as he glances over at Keith. Keith glances away from him before he can see the anxious look in his gaze, the worry. Keith isn’t going to disappoint Shiro and besides, joining the army makes sense for someone like him. They’ll work that last lingering bit of sensitivity and _difficulty_ (that’s what they called it in his files) out of him until Keith’s more like Shiro.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Keith murmurs with a small grin as he gets up from the bed and crosses the room before his thoughts can get any heavier. He’s being overdramatic. As long as Keith stays focused on his goals, everything will be okay and Shiro will be proud of him. That’s what matters. “I’ll see you for a run tomorrow.”

Keith walks back to his door, struggling with the key and letting out a low groan when the door stays jammed. He pulls it halfway out with a low huff, crossing his arms and glaring down at the lock as though it’ll come undone from the sheer force of his pout. Instead the key falls to the floor with a low clink. Keith starts to bend over to pick it up when he sees a hand reach out for it instead, long fingers making his heart pound in his chest. Lance unlocks his door in one swift motion, glancing over at Keith with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and a quick nod. Lance is gone before Keith can say a word, but somehow he thinks Lance saw the flush slowly crawling up his neck and across his cheeks. Fuck.

* * *

Lance imagined his reunion with Keith since the other boy first vanished from his life six years ago. He’s imagined himself sweeping Keith off his feet, the two of them standing in the rain while they share their first kiss. He’s imagined the angry arguments and harsh words, the stench of betrayal weighing too heavily for them to overcome, going from friends to bitter rivals. He’s imagined himself saving Keith from whatever was keeping them apart, holding him in his arms as the other boy cries softly, gazes and touch soft as they come together.

He just never imagined the reality, which is that he and Keith would be nothing to each other. They haven’t spoken once since orientation, Keith squirreling away in his room or at soccer practice. Their only interactions have been awkward bumping of elbows in the bathroom while they’re both trying to brush their teeth and Lance unlocking the door for a flustered, sad-eyed Keith. Lance reminds himself this should be okay. They’re not fighting, they’re not Naruto and Sasuke like in his worst tween nightmares. But the silence, the distance is worse. At least Naruto got Sasuke back, in the end.

All Lance has is a block of ice with his best friend’s face attached.

And he’s gonna change that, whether Keith wants him too or not. Lance slides into the chair next to Keith when class starts, waiting just until the moment when there are no other seats left. Keith’s eyes widen, one hand forming into a tight fist on his desk, though Lance can see the way Keith’s gently rubbing his thumb like he used to when he was anxious. It only gets faster when their tests come back, and Lance can’t help glancing at Keith’s. After he does, he wishes he hadn’t.

“So you got an A+,” Lance murmurs as he leans over, brushing his shoulder together with Keith’s. Keith leans in the other direction, dark eyes flickering to the other side of the room. So much for flattery. Lance glances back at his own A-/B+ with a tight frown. He wanted to do better.

“Looks like it,” Keith murmurs after a beat, glancing back at Lance coolly. His lips are pressed into a thin line, one lip curling up a little. It’s not quite a smirk, but it’s pretty damn close. Lance bristles under the stare, his hands lying flat against the desk.

“Nice job ruining the curve for everyone else, mullet man,” Lance mutters as he narrows his gaze at Keith, eyebrows sloping forward as he matches Keith’s glare with one of his own. His lacks the icy emptiness of Keith’s, filled with annoyance and resentment instead, but it still seems to do the trick. Keith breaks away from Lance’s gaze, both of his hands forming into tight fists again. Lance half expects Keith to bang them against the table like he did when he was 7. Lance is a little disappointed when he doesn’t.

“I don’t have a mullet!” Keith snaps suddenly, crossing his arms against his chest as he leans toward Lance instead. Keith’s mouth is pressed into a tight frown, glare going from cold to annoyed and a little heated. Lance bites back a triumphant smile at the sight. “Besides it’s not like I did it on purpose, I can’t help that the rest of you didn’t get good scores.”

“Well I’m sorry the rest of us have social lives and don’t hide in our rooms studying all the time,” Lance mutters, rolling his eyes a little bit as Keith brushes a hand across the bottom of his hair in the back. It’s not really a mullet, if Lance wanted to get technical about it, but he’ll call it a crew cut if it’ll annoy Keith. Besides, Lance has bigger questions, like _how_ Keith got an A+ right off the bat. “Since when do you like studying anyway? I used to have to bribe you with sleepovers to get you to prepare for tests on anything you weren’t obsessed with and now you haven’t talked to me – _anyone_ for two weeks!”

“Yeah, I’m not the kid I was when I was 11 anymore, Lance,” Keith reminds him, voice returning to the coldness from before, expression going blank as he folds his paper in half. The rest of the class has started walking out, but Lance knows there isn’t another class in this room for two hours so he stays where he is, trying to get Keith’s attention back on him and off the wall in front of him.

“Yeah, that’s obvious,” Lance says instead, tone mulish as he wads up a bit of paper and throws it at the back of Keith’s mullet. Lance has to admit he’s kind of impressed when Keith slaps the paper away with his right hand without even looking up at him. Impressed, but still pissed off.

Keith finally looks over at him, gaze narrowed and lips pressed together tightly as he stares back at Lance. His expression is closer to a pout than the terrifying glare Lance bets Keith thinks it is. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you used to be … friendlier,” Lance murmurs, fumbling over the last word as he tries to think of the best way to say Keith’s kind of being an asshole without scaring Keith off. He wants to unlock Keith’s tragic backstory, not lose him. And … actually, the way Keith looks right now, gaze heavy and distant, frown growing deeper as he rubs his fingers against him thumb, well let’s just say Lance has the puzzle pieces and they’re starting to come together. “Though, actually … when you glare when strangers try to talk to you, you look kind of anxious.”

Keith crosses his arms suddenly and tightly, eyes wide and wild as leans back in his chair, bangs messily bouncing against his forehead. Lance leans in a little closer, wriggling his eyebrows as Keith starts to wince. “No, I don’t!”

“Yeah you do, you look anxious right now, actually,” Lance says thoughtfully as he takes in Keith’s expression, the distress in his gaze and way his body is tensing a little under Lance’s examination. It’s not that different than how Keith used to react to bullies when he was in elementary school, except now with a thin veneer of anger instead of tears. Lance kind of misses the tears.

“Stop trying to find signs of the old Keith, Lance,” Keith tells him with a small scoff, glancing away from Lance and at the ceiling. Lance watches as Keith’s newfound and tenuous grasp slowly starts to come back inch-by-inch. Lance needs to put a stop to this before all the progress they’ve made (even if the progress is just Lance annoying Keith back into having emotions) is lost. “He’s not there anymore. We both grew up.”

“Well. I did,” Lance murmurs as he gives Keith a once over, pushing his eyebrows together as he slowly smirks. Lance tries to keep his gaze teasing and hide the way he notices Keith’s big eyes and pouting bow lips and lean muscles. Keith is … adorable; the kind of cute where Lance is pretty sure that Keith would get hit on all the time if he stopped scowling for five minutes.

Keith lets out a low sigh, biting his lip as he gives Lance another short glare. But he still doesn’t leave the classroom. Lance takes that as a victory. “Are you going to stop with the short jokes at any point?”

“Sure, I’ll go back to the ones about your hair,” Lance says with playful grin, wriggling his eyebrows again. Keith bites his lips, gaze growing tighter as Lance leans in a little more. Good. Maybe this is a little childish, but if it gets Keith to act more like a person than a pretty android, Lance is happy to be a bit of a troll. Desperate times call for desperate measures. “Seriously, Keith? A mullet? What’s the point of having a party in the back if you don’t actually party?”

“It’s not a mullet! My hair is fine!” Keith snaps back, crossing his arms a little more tightly as he leans in so their forehead to forehead, the same way they used to when they argued over who the best Pokémon was as kids. Keith’s full on pouty now, gaze hot with as much annoyance as confusion, a light flush over cheeks letting Lance know he’s not really angry. Well, assuming Keith blushes for the same reason he did at 12, anyway.

“See, I knew there was some of the old Keith in there,” Lance says with a triumphant grin as he takes in Keith’s expression, leaning over a little to pat Keith on the arm. Small progress is still progress.

Keith’s eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up to his forehead, another expression that takes Lance back to sixth grade. Lance leans back in his own chair, expression softening a little as Keith tries (and fails) to force his expression into something harder than what he has right now. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re getting all cute-angry and pouty, like when you didn’t get stuff at school,” Lance tells him with a small chuckle, slowly pulling the hand on Keith’s shoulder away. Lance doesn’t miss the way Keith’s gaze follow it, eyes darting to his shoulder and then back to Lance, expression closer to just confused now. “Going to do something impulsive next?”

“You always hated both those things about me,” Keith answers him, voice surprisingly soft for a moment, gaze suddenly growing sad as his eyebrows slope down as though Lance’s words were a slap in the face instead of mere teasing. This isn’t about Lance. Not entirely, anyway.

“First of all that’s not true, or at least not entirely. I could be, can be a little blunt, petty even, but that was usually only when I thought you were going to do something stupid,” Lance reminds him, keeping his voice measured and kind as he leans toward Keith. He half expects the other boy to get up and bolt, but instead Keith just crosses his arms, gaze falling to the tile floor below. “Or when I was jealous, yeah, but Keith, most of the time I liked those things. It meant we had a lot of fun together. And you’re being sensitive is part of what makes you so loyal and passionate –“

“I’m not sensitive!” Keith snaps suddenly, though there’s as much fear in his voice as anger. His gaze is heavy and pained as his fists bang against his desk, a pain Lance doesn’t know. Keith looks away before Lance can examine it more closely, eyebrows sloping down and voice cracking a little on his next few words. “Not anymore.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t seem that way to me,” Lance mutters, tone strange even to his own ears. There’s annoyance in it, frustration, but also a wistful sort of hope. Keith glances back at him with those sad eyes and opens his mouth, only to close it and push himself away from the desk suddenly.

“Goodbye Lance,” Keith says softly, giving him a crooked smile as he starts walking toward the door. Then, as though a spell has been broken, Keith’s expression loses any signs of the myriad of emotions it’s gone through in the past hour, as blank as when Lance first walked into the room. Lance lets out a low sigh as he presses his face against the cool wood of his desk. Somehow he has the feeling it’s going to be a long semester if he doesn’t find a way to demolish Keith’s walls fast.

* * *

Keith knew going into his Space and Society class that there was a group project. He’s not an idiot, he read the syllabus. Keith isn’t the best at group projects or well, really anything that means he has to talk to other people, but he can manage. He’s learned how to be a team player in soccer, or at least enough of one he doesn’t hurt the team. And it’s not like this is first group project. He had plenty in high school. Usually he does his part and hands it over, no actual communication needed. It’s a system Keith has perfected over the years, so yeah, he didn’t worry about it for this class. He just didn’t expect his partner to be Lance or to ever see Lance again.

So yeah, Keith’s not handling this well. Keith’s already let too much slip in front of Lance, wincing a little as he glances at the other boy out of the corner of his eye. Lance smiles widely, waving a little and Keith shoots him a tight glare. He has no idea why Lance isn’t either afraid of him or pitying him now. That’s how most people react to his emotional outbursts, and Keith … he almost _cried_ in front of Lance. Anyone else would be running, but no, Lance has to be special and act like Keith’s sensitivity is a good thing. Stupid Lance.

Keith can fix this though. All he has to do is ask to switch partners. Then he won’t revert back to the old Keith and Lance will be safe from him. It’s better for everyone this way. Keith marches over to Dr. Ulaz, arms crossed as he arrives at his desk. Dr. Ulaz raises an eyebrow and Keith uncrosses his arms, voice a loud whisper as he leans in toward the professor. “Him?!”

“Is there a problem with Lance Ramirez, Mr. Shirogane?” Dr. Ulaz asks with a raised eyebrow, glancing behind Keith to where Lance is sitting with the same wide smile as before. Keith follows his gaze with a low sigh.

“No, of course not,” Keith says back, voice defensive and tight, because Lance is smart and a hard worker (or he was when he was a kid, but Keith doesn’t think that’s changed), and he’s not about to let anyone imply anything else, if that’s what Dr. Ulaz meant. Going by the confused frown and furrowed brows on the man in front of him, it isn’t. Keith flushes a little and considers explaining the situation, but if he’s not willing to give Lance the whole story, he’s sure as hell not doing it for a professor who must think he’s going to be a _problem_ now.

“Then please go to your group,” Dr. Ulaz says as he nods in response, lips curling up a little as Keith bites his lip. There’s something knowing in his gaze that Keith doesn’t get and definitely doesn’t like. Keith lets out a small sigh as he turns on his heel, walking toward where Lance is sitting. He guesses he’ll be sitting over there everyday from now on. Keith keeps his arms crossed as Lance’s body grows looser and more open, one hand lazily waving at him.

“So I guess this means you’re finally gonna talk to me,” Lance calls with a grin, though now that Keith’s closer he can see that it doesn’t reach his eyes. Keith grimaces a little at the expression, at the fact that he put it there. How does he end up hurting everyone even when he literally does nothing? Is he _that_ bad of a person?

“I’m not not talking to you,” Keith explains as he gives Lance what he hopes is a reassuring look, eyebrows sloping down as his posture loosens up a little. Lance raises an eyebrow at him, gaze a mixture of confusion and disbelief as he stares at Keith. Keith starts to squirm in his chair a little bit, fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie, because Lance’s gaze is just a little too curious for this to end well. “I just don’t have anything to tell you. We’re not friends anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re really not,” Lance mutters, pulling back from Keith, gaze tight and a little watery as his smile fades into a pained frown. Keith winces, unconsciously mirroring the expression as he leans toward the space Lance just left empty. Keith feels like he keeps screwing up no matter what he does or doesn’t say. At least it’s a familiar feeling.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not you, I’m not friends with anyone,” Keith says softly, gaze dropping to the floor, not able to keep the slightly wistful note out of his voice. He … Keith does better on his own, and he has Shiro. It’s selfish to drag Lance into his issues too. “That’s just how it is.”

“Right, but either we’re friends or not, we still have to do this project together,” Lance huffs as he leans back, gaze a mix of frustration and something like pity, but softer and safer, something that throws Keith off his game. Lance shakes his head a little, brown curls falling across his forehead and framing his ridiculously bright eyes. Keith bites his lip, because it doesn’t help him that Lance turned out so hot. The universe really does not want him to succeed here. But Keith’s always been good at defying the universe. “So meet me for coffee at the café by the lake at 3. We can figure out how we wanna do this there.”

“I – okay,” Keith agrees after a beat, nodding a little as he picks up his books. A part of his brain is telling him to remember his plan, to split the research and work and never talk to Lance again for the rest of the semester. The rest of his face is stuck on the surprised smile on Lance’s face, eyes crinkling slightly as he waves at Keith from the door.

The logical part of Keith kicks in an hour later, and he winces and lets out pained noise as he runs his hands through his hair. How did Keith not say no? Keith considers going to Shiro for advice about how to fix this, but then he’d have to explain his entire history with Lance to Shiro and Keith hasn’t figured out how to tell Shiro any of that yet. Keith’s always kept the happier parts of childhood under lock and key, the memories making him too soft, too weak. Shiro is the person Keith’s most open with, but he wants to make Shiro proud, not give Shiro more problems.

Besides, Shiro would tell him that he should talk to Lance and Keith has no time for that practical advice. So instead Keith spends hours gathering research and articles on the way space and society interacted, making a list of titles and names to share with Lance. They can work on it separately once Keith has the info to give him. Keith walks to the café, spotting Lance with two cups in front of him. Keith frowns slightly, eyebrows going up as he sits across from Lance at the table. Lance pushes the drink at him and Keith takes it with a sigh. He’ll pay Lance back at the end of the meeting.

“Hey, I figured we should start with a topic,” Keith starts without warning, laying out the list of titles and names and sites he’s found. His fingers smooth out the wrinkled corners of the papers nervously, because now that he looks at the topic and the amount of research he’s already done, it seems kind of intense. Lance’s eyes widen at the sheer amount of names. “I know this might sound stupid, but … the professor said we should do something with society and space, right?”

  
“Yeah, Keith, where are you going with this?” Lance asks with a small frown, one eyebrow dropping as his other hand grips his drink a little tighter.

“Aliens,” Keith answers back hesitantly, because he knows it’s weird. Lance’s head shoots up to meet Keith’s gaze, his own surprised but also with a relief that Keith doesn’t understand. Maybe Lance really likes aliens? Keith takes a sip of his drink, cinnamon hot chocolate like he used to have as a kid. Keith still likes it. “Like space phenomena that people mistake for aliens, I mean. I know we haven’t found alien life. Yet.”

“So you still believe in aliens?” Lance blurts out as his faces breaks out into a wide grin, gaze growing warmer as he leans toward Keith. Keith bites his lip and gives a small nod, expression becoming sheepish on Lance’s next question, though he’s not sure why. “Oh my god, do you still like cryptids too?”

Keith shrugs a little, eyebrows dropping as he gives Lance a tight look. Keith isn’t sure what the smirk on Lance’s face means, but he feels like it doesn’t bode well for him. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Zombies don’t usually have that many interests,” Lance answers with a small cock of his head. Keith stares back at him blankly, waiting for Lance to explain what he means. Lance just takes a long sip of his drink, raising one eyebrow as he waits for Keith to get it. Keith lets out a small groan, because Lance (somehow still) knows he pays no attention to pop culture so if it’s referencing – but no. What Keith said a little over two weeks ago comes back to him in full force and Keith grimaces a little, eyebrows scrunching together. He might’ve been a little dramatic. “But no, I hate to admit it since it’s your idea, but that sounds awesome.”

“Really?” Keith asks before he can stop himself, voice rising slightly in surprise. He’d worked on his list, but he knew the idea’s a little weird.

Lance though, just gives him a warm smile; one Keith can’t help returning with a crooked smile of his own. Keith’s expression grows a little softer almost against his will, and he takes a quick sip of his hot chocolate to try and hide it from Lance. He doesn’t think he succeeds from the twinkle in Lance’s gaze. “Yeah, to tell you the truth, I think it’s a pretty fascinating too, if a little History Channel. But seriously, you still like Sci-Fi?”

“Yeah, I have interests, Lance,” Keith says with a small chortle, playing with the side of his cup as the words just start spilling out of him. This is why Keith doesn’t like talking to people. Keith’s gaze darts around the room as he tries to justify his own interests to Lance. “That’s why I wan to study space and become a … join the army. So I can eventually go to NASA and protect it.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself there, Keith? I know what you look like when you’re lying,” Lance murmurs as his scrunches his eyebrows together, leaning forward a little with a worried frown. Keith stills, fingers tightening so much around his hot chocolate he’s surprised the lid doesn’t pop off.

“No you don’t, not anymore,” Keith mutters after a beat, trying to make his voice cold, but it comes out more broken and tired than anything else.

When Keith glances up at Lance, the other boy is studying him with a heavy gaze, lips pressed into a tight frown that makes Keith slump in his chair, pulling in on himself instinctively. Lance smiles then, sad and wistful as he ghosts a hand over Keith’s shoulder. Keith lets out a small gasp at the touch and then closes his eyes in embarrassment, slowly opening them to meet Lance’s knowing eyes. “You haven’t changed as much as you think.”

“I need to go,” Keith pleads in a small voice as he pulls away from Lance’s touch, dropping a five-dollar on the bill for the coffee. He walks out of the café and then runs the rest of the way back to his room once he’s sure he’s out of Lance’s sight. Keith slides down the back of his door, biting his lip as he feels tears starting to build in the back of his eyes. Fuck. Lance might be right and nothing could scare Keith more. Feelings are dangerous and having as many as Keith used to? That’s downright deadly.

* * *

Lance stares at the empty seat across from him and considers going after Keith, but decides against it for now. Keith probably needs space, and Lance isn’t sure where to go from here, if he’s honest. Lance takes another sip of his coffee, savoring the sweet vanilla flavor as he idly grabs the five-dollar Keith left on the table. His drink had only been $3.50, so Lance will just have to buy him candy sometime. Lance reads over Keith’s notes, smiling fondly at the long list of names and possible alien sightings. Keith’s always been thorough when he was interested in something. It’s why Lance knows so much about plants.

He wonders if Keith still likes plants. Lance frowns tightly at the thought, taking another long sip of his latte as he stares over at the peaceful water of the lake. As much as Lance thinks Keith is more his Keith than not, there are still a lot of things he doesn’t know about him and that Keith doesn’t know about Lance. Keith doesn’t know Lance took up archery or that he’s mastered Mario Kart, or that he had mono in 9th grade and missed several weeks. They’re both the same, but different and Lance wishes they hadn’t spent so many memories apart, or that Keith was a little more willing to try and make new ones.

Lance sighs and goes through the rest of his day, trying to put the thought of Keith out of his mind. Lance doesn’t know why he even cares so much, when Keith resists his every attempt at friendship except … he doesn’t, not exactly. Keith doesn’t initiate, avoids him in their dorm, but every time Lance manages to get a hold of him, Keith stays and talks to him, opens up little by little. It’s almost like Keith wants Lance to push him, to not let him go but then … does Lance only think that because he wants it to be true? Except then Keith texts him asking him to meet him in the library Friday night. Mixed messages indeed.

There are way too many variables here for Lance to deal with it by himself, which is why he waits for Keith to leave for soccer practice the next morning before he pokes Hunk awake.

“I had coffee,” Lance explains to Hunk, who scrunches his eyebrows together as he nods, giving Lance an annoyed look as he sits up on the bed. Lance takes a deep breath, knowing that even a tired and annoyed Hunk will know the significance of his next words. “With Keith.”

“Oh shit, that’s new, I thought you were convinced he hated you,” Hunk mutters, slowly growing more awake as he sits up on his bed with wide eyes. His yellow T-shirt reads ‘Dating a Rock Goddess’ which he got when Shay announced her art would specialize in jewels and that she was also going to study geology. Truly no one could ask for a better boyfriend than Hunk. But right now Hunk’s being the best isn’t the issue, it’s hopefully the solution. Hunk gives Lance an encouraging smile, patting him on the back as Lance slides on to the bed next to him. “So maybe he was just like, working himself up to be your friend again?”

“I mean, no, we got assigned to be project partners, I don’t think he would’ve talked to me otherwise,” Lance admits with a small groan, shaking his head a little as he closes his eyes. He wonders if he looks like Keith when he’s trying to calm himself down, and the thought makes him snicker a little.

When he opens his eyes, Hunk is wincing a little, eyebrows scrunched together and smile more nervous. Lance raises an eyebrow until his next words, because yeah, he can see why his reaction made Hunk think he was upset. “Oh, sorry. Was it that bad?”

“He tries to sound harsh and come off as aloof, and he still has the same temper he did as a kid but …” Lance trails off as he remembers the soft look on Keith’s face at points, the nervous half smiles and sad gazes. The way Keith still gets excited about his passions, or even the way he tries to hide his fears by glaring and crossing his arms like Lance won’t figure out he’s hugging himself from his pout. all of it is achingly familiar. “He still like aliens and cryptids, and he’s still shy and sensitive even if he won’t admit it. Keith is still my Keith deep down, even if he tries to act all tough.”

“Did you ever consider that he might just be like, awkward? Sometimes that looks like being aloof,” Hunk throws out with a small shrug, raising an eyebrow softly. Hunk and Keith haven’t spent much time together, but Lance knows Keith has been nothing but friendly (well, his version of friendly) to him, so Hunk might have a point. Just not with them.

“Oh no, he’s definitely awkward,” Lance agrees with a small chuckle, running a hand down the back of his neck. Hunk grins over at him, gaze questioning but also knowing at the same time, and Lance ignores the look. He frowns a little when he’s done laughing, gaze growing a little tighter. “But it’s not just that. I knew him, Hunk, better than anyone. A part of me thinks I still might. He doesn’t seem like he’s just being defensive or socially inept, when I look in his eyes, he’s anxious. Afraid.”

“That’s a lot to take from two conversations and awkward elbow bumping in the bathroom a few times,” Hunk points out as his grin turns into a worried frown, eyebrows sloping downward as he stares over at Lance. There’s a hint of wariness to his eyes, a look Lance is all too familiar with from every time he’s done something impulsive or been flippant at the wrong moment.

“I know, I know, I could be overthinking this,” Lance assures him, because Lance has considered that too. He knows all of this might just be his imagination making Keith fit back into his life the way he wants him too. But Lance doesn’t really think that’s it. he can be too optimistic sometimes, but at heart he’s a realist. He wouldn’t make Keith more like _Keith_ if there wasn’t reason to. “I wish Keith was here to tell me to just go with my gut.”

“I mean, that’s pretty much never my advice,” Hunk admits with a small laugh, one Lance joins in on after a moment, their voices ringing out across the dorm room. neither of them are exactly the follow your heart type, but yeah, Hunk is even worse than him in that regard. “But if that’s how you feel, I’m not sure I’m the one you should be talking to.”

“I’m working on our project with Keith in the library tomorrow, I’ll ask him then,” Lance mutters back softly, nodding to himself and to Hunk’s words. He knows, as scary as it’s probably going to end up being that he’s only going to get answers to his questions if he talks to Keith. And maybe not even then, since Keith could just run away again. But then at least Lance will know if he’s wasting his time or not trying to rescue his Keith once and for all.

“Hey, that’s a good sign at least, he could’ve just asked you to do half of it while he did the other half,” Hunk says as though reading his mind, patting him on the back again with a wide grin. Lance can’t help but return it, playfully punching Hunk on the shoulder before he gets up. Hunk might be able to go back to sleep, but Lance actually has class soon.

“That’s true, Hunk, thanks,” Lance tells him and Hunk gives him a thumbs up as he lies back down on his bed. Lance walks to class, already trying to think of what he’ll say to Keith tomorrow, if he actually ends up being brave enough to say anything (he probably needs to be, if he doesn’t want to zone out for half of his lecture again).

Come Friday, Lance comes to the library, wearing his lucky navy sweater and favorite khakis. If he ends up heartbroken, at least he’ll look cute while it happens. He finds Keith at a table in one of the back rooms, library nearly empty except the two of them since it’s Friday. Keith glances up at him with a small frown, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Lance idly wonders if it’s because of how much he made fun of his mullet. Keith is wearing what Lance thinks might be a cropped red sweater over a black T-shirt and what are maybe leggings, because Keith’s bizarre sense of fashion didn’t change either. It’s almost reassuring.

“Hey Keith, I got you a vanilla latte with a cinnamon stick,” Lance says as he sits down next to the other boy on the bench, even though there’s a chair across from him. Keith’s eyes get huge, mouth forming into a small ‘o’ and it’s unfair he’s being so adorable when he’s confusing the hell out of Lance. “It was always your favorite besides hot chocolate, but I guess that’s something else you probably hate now too.”

“No, no I still like it,” Keith assures him quickly with a small smile as he takes the drink, their hands brushing together for a moment. Keith immediately pulls back, expression going carefully blank as though he can’t even let himself _smile_ at Lance anymore.

“Oh, good, so it’s just me,” Lance mutters before he can stop himself, his own eyebrows sloping downward as he slides a hand across the table. The other one finds its way to his hair, running through it as he lets out a small sigh. Across the table from him, Keith’s eyes widen so much he almost looks like a bug, mouth hanging open slightly. Okay, maybe Lance is being a little unfair. “shit, I’m sorry –“

“I don’t hate you, Lance,” Keith cuts him off, voice a little high and desperate, but he’s meeting Lance’s gaze with a nervous one of his own, eyebrows sloped down and expression soft. Keith isn’t lying and that’s enough for Lance for now. His next words make Lance’s heart hurt again. “I just don’t know you anymore.”

“Well then get to, Keith. You wouldn’t know this, but I happen to be very likable,” Lance quips, eyebrows coming together and narrowing his gaze at Keith. Keith looks away over to the clock, as though he’s trying to figure out if he can leave. Then Keith comes back to face him, biting his lip a little and gaze heavy with something Lance doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t like either. Keith looks … lost. Like he’s giving up, but Lance has no idea on what since Keith never gives up on anything.

“Why are you pushing this so much?” Keith says after a minute, voice tight and harsh in a way Lance would’ve thought was anger if he wasn’t close enough to see the confusion, the _longing_ in Keith’s gaze. Lance was right earlier, Keith does want him to push, and so Lance is going to fucking smash through whatever walls Keith might have left. “Look, we came here to study, so let’s study.”

“Good, because I question I’ve been wanting you to answer since the first day I saw you on campus,” Lance says with no tone as he glances over at Keith, making his face as neutral as possible. He doesn’t want to give himself away.

“What?” Keith asks after a minute, biting his lip a little. Keith takes a sip of his drink, gaze growing a little happier for a second, though not enough to overcome the anxiety Lance can still see in his gaze.

This isn’t ideal, Lance wanted both of them to be in a better mood for what he’s about to ask. But then maybe there is no right mood, no storybook version of the moment Lance asks this question. Maybe there’s only this, Keith staring at him in open fear and Lance’s voice rising on every word, anger born of half a decade’s worth of worry driving him. “Why did leave without saying goodbye? What the fuck happened Keith? Tell me.”

Keith stares back at him blankly for a second, clutching his drink and notes like a shield. Lance swallows, his own expression growing more anxious with every passing second. Maybe this is it, maybe Keith’s going to get up and walk away and Lance will have to accept that those seven years didn’t count, that his Keith is gone. That he doesn’t always get the answers he wants. Then Lance hears a whisper, so soft and defeated that he almost thinks he imagined it. “Okay.”

And then they begin.


	3. The Past Never Says Goodbye

Keith takes a deep breath, absently running his fingers across his thumb as he tries to figure out what to say. Keith hasn’t shared this story, the real story with anyone before. Not even Shiro. Keith won’t blame Lance if he walks away after this, but it’ll hurt. Keith needs a constant and even with their missing six years, Lance is the closest thing he has. He’s the only person who knows what Keith used to be like, who seems invested in Keith becoming like that person again. But … Keith doesn’t think he can be that kid again, not after what he’s done. It’s not fair to make Lance have hope for someone who doesn’t exist anymore.

But then it’s not fair to not let Lance make that choice for himself either. Keith has tried pushing Lance away like he does with everyone else, but Lance hasn’t let him. He kept pushing back until Keith was too tired to bury his emotions. And if Keith is honest, he’s tired in general. He’s trying so hard to be aloof and angry all the time, and it used to work, but the older it gets, the more it leaves him frustrated and empty. Keith wants to tell someone the truth, wants to know if they could know what he did and still love him. And Keith guesses it’s now or never, because Lance is here and asking and Keith doesn’t want to avoid him anymore.

“You know my dad was sick, when I disappeared,” Keith says softly, deciding to start at the beginning. His gaze is glued to the table as he speaks, because he’s not ready to see understanding slowly don in Lance’s eyes. Not yet.

“Yeah, I remember,” Lance answers in a slightly confused voice, leaning forward a little so his arm brushes against Keith’s. Keith glances up quickly and sees Lance’s warm gaze and scrunched eyebrows, frowning a little as he stares at Keith in concern. His expression grows more worried and Keith looks back down at the dark wood before he can see it change anymore than it already has. “Is that what happened? He … didn’t get better?”

“No,” Keith mutters after a beat, wincing at the way his voice wavers. He needs to be stronger than that if he’s going to get through this story. He needs to be able to face Lance once Lance knows the truth about him and just what type of person he is and was. Keith takes a deep breath, ignoring the way the room around him is starting to get a little blurry, because he doesn’t have time for a panic attack right now. “It was my fault.”

Keith looks up as he finishes his words, biting his lip as he crosses his arms around his chest tightly. Lance stares back at him blankly for a second, any emotion gone. Then Lance’s eyebrows slope down, gaze filling with concern as he reaches a hand out and lays it across Keith’s own gently. “Keith, what are you talking about?”

“I was a brat and … we got into a fight, at the hospital,” Keith admits as he looks down again, shaking his head a little as he remembers himself back then. 12 and furious, hands ball into fists as he stood on his heels to meet his dad’s eyes while he yelled at him. His dad had looked back at him with a soft, hurt gaze, just a little too thin and pale for his own good. Keith had barely noticed. “I stressed him out a bunch.”

“Keith, the stress isn’t why he died,” Lance mutters as he squeezes the top of Keith’s hand, gaze growing tighter and a little angry as he leans toward Keith more. Keith tries to lean back, but there isn’t enough space between his desk and chair to do it, so instead he just slumps down as he feels a bit of the air go out of him. Keith should’ve known that someone like Lance, kind and compassionate and _good_ , wouldn’t understand what Keith meant. How could he?

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Keith snaps as he tries to gather his thoughts, voice harsh and a little higher than usual, frustration and anxiety blending together in his voice. Normally it makes people back away from him, but Lance only grips his hand tighter, as though Keith hadn’t just yelled in the middle of a near empty library. As though every word out of Keith’s mouth isn’t ash. “I didn’t mean because of the stress. It’s more complicated than that. I – this was a bad idea.”

“No, no, it wasn’t, you can tell me what happened,” Lance assures him in a firm voice, though he’s speaking a little too quickly, like he’s afraid Keith might cut and run if he doesn’t. Keith supposes that’s fair, given their history. But Keith isn’t going anywhere. Not now. Lance smiles at him, small and a little weak as the grip on Keith’s hand weakens a little but, Lance’s gaze growing sheepish. “If you want to, if you don’t … we can pretend this conversation never happened. It’s cool.”

Keith considers that option for a moment, because it’s tempting. He’d get out of telling Lance about how much of a monster he is without losing Lance entirely. No one loses in that option. Except … no. Keith knows if he doesn’t tell Lance the truth now, he’s never going to be able to be close to him again, that eventually he’ll just let Lance drift away from him until they barely talk. “No, I want to tell you. You have a right to know.”

“Okay,” Lance murmurs, voice small and encouraging as he pulls his hand back a little, so it’s lying right in front of Keith on the table, as though he’s keeping it there in case Keith needs to grab it the way he would’ve when he was 12.

“We got into a fight about the date. Our date,” Keith says firmly, trying to keep his voice steady as he looks Lance in the eye. Lance nods, expression careful not to reveal anything as he raises an eyebrow. Keith’s hands clench against the hard wood of the desk, the light pain enough of a distraction to let him keep going without tearing up. Small victories. “Not because of you, he loved you. Everybody did. He thought I was too young and he wanted me to stay home with him. He was worried we weren’t spending enough time together since he went in the hospital. And I was … awful.”

“Keith,” Lance mutters softly as Keith’s voice cracks a little on ‘awful’, and Keith shakes his head. He needs to keep going, it’s now or never. Lance seems to understand, giving Keith another quick nod, fingers inching closer to his own on the table but not quite touching them.

“I yelled at him and cried because I felt like I didn’t get to do anything but hang out at the hospital or play tennis, and I wanted him to be better and he wasn’t and I … I was wrong, but it doesn’t matter,” Keith explains in a voice that cracks on almost every other word, not able to keep the feeling out of his voice now that he’s gotten to the crux of the situation. Keith pauses for a second before his last few words, remembering the hurt in his father’s gaze, the way he clenched his fist into the sheets as his ‘sweet shy boy’ became the monster that Keith is now. “I told him he was a jerk.”

“That’s not … Keith, lots of kids say things like that to their parents when they’re mad,” Lance tells him in a shaky voice, and this time his fingers do brush against Keith’s for a second. Keith wants to grab his hand more than anything to let Lance’s warm touch and familiar soft skin push down his guilt until he can feel whole again. But that’s not fair to Lance or his dad. Keith deserves the scars he lives with.

“I bet you never did,” Keith says with a small smile, gazing over at Lance fondly as he remembers all the times he spent at the Ramirez’s house, always filled with loud voices and even louder laughter. Some of his best memories were there, and now they’re all strangers to him. Even Lance, in a way. Keith shakes himself from that memory, tries to remind himself that the reason for that is because he had to let them go. Focusing on his dad helps with that. “But I did. And then I left.”

Lance’s expression grows tighter as he stares over at Keith, forehead making a small crease as he furrows his brow more. Keith shakes his head a little, fondness fading as the tiredness and guilt that’s always with him overtakes him under Lance’s considering gaze. He’s always been too smart for Keith’s good. “Left?”

“I ran away from the car on our way out, only across the street, but my dad went to grab me. There was a drunk driver, and he …” Keith starts and then stops, biting his lip as he looks down at the table, trying to push the tears building in the back of his throat away. Keith has no right to cry over this, not again, not when he’s the cause and the effect. Keith’s being selfish again, just like he was the night at the hospital. “He hit my dad, who wouldn’t have been out there if it hadn’t been for me. So it’s my fault.”

“Keith, it’s not your fault.” Lance cries, voice tight as he suddenly grabs Keith’s hand with his own, squeezing it softly the way they used to when they were kids. Keith looks up at him through his bangs, gaze growing a little more watery as he sees the sincerity in Lance’s eyes, at the _tears_ slowly cascading down Lance’s cheeks. Lance is crying for him after everything he just said? That made no sense.

“Yes it is,” Keith says more insistently, hating the watery quality to his own voice as the tears get closer to falling. He tries to pull his hand back, but Lance’s grip is stronger than his right now. Keith needs Lance to understand that he’s a monster. Lance needs to know. “I got my dad killed –“

“No, it’s not! You were a 12-year-old kid who threw a fit yeah, but you know whose fault it is? That driver’s,” Lance shouts with a heated gaze, worry and concern for Keith mixing in with anger that Keith doesn’t understand because it’s not directed at him. Keith doesn’t know whom it’s for. Then Lance’s gaze softens and he gets up from the table without letting go of Keith’s hand, squeezing it tightly as he comes to stand over Keith’s chair. “It’s not your fault. Your dad knew you loved him.”

Keith can’t stop himself from crying this time, tears prickling at the back of his eyes and then sliding down his face. Keith immediately covers his face with his right hand, expecting Lance to walk away because that’s what everyone did when he cried, because he isn’t supposed to be vulnerable. Weakness is for the kind.

Instead he feels Lance pull him closer to him by the shoulder, and then Lance wraps both arms around his back and slowly starts rubbing it wordlessly. After a second Keith wraps his own arms around Lance’s back, pressing his face into Lance’s jacket until the tears finally subside. Keith pulls back little by little, and eventually Lance lets go, though his hands linger in the air around Keith’s arms, as though he’s ready to pull Keith back into another hug at any second. Keith gives him a crooked, watery smile. “That’s my first hug in awhile.”

“So that’s why you left without saying goodbye?” Lance asks him softly as he presses one hand against the back of the table, the other coming to rest against his cheek. Lance’s gaze is tender and a little wistful, shaking his head a bit as Keith gives him a weak nod.

“Yeah, I didn’t … I didn’t deserve to keep in touch with people. Not then,” Keith answers softly, glancing down again as he rubs his fingers over his right thumb. His anxiety is starting to rise again as Lance stares at him with such concern and longing, as though he really doesn’t think Keith did anything wrong. How can Lance not see it? Though that’s not the only reason Keith left. Just the most important one. “Besides, my group homes and foster families weren’t a big fan of me having a social life.”

Lance stares at him, frown growing a little tighter as his gaze grows distant. His tone on the next words is careful and clipped, as though he’s afraid of the answer. “Do you mean the Shirogane’s?”

“No, not the Shirogane’s. Hinata and Shiro are amazing. A lot better than I ever could’ve wanted,” Keith says with another fleeting smile, not able to keep the warmth out of his voice. Meeting Shiro had saved Keith’s life, was the reason he even thought he might still be able to have a future. And Hinata had never treated him like a burden, even though Keith knows he must have been one at points. He’d been told enough times over the years that he was a difficult kid to get the picture. “But I was in foster care for 3 and a half years before that. I went through 6 placements.”

“Is that high?” Lance asks as he scrunches his eyebrows together, frowning tightly. Keith can’t help wincing a little, glancing down at his hands as he considers the questions. He read somewhere once that most foster kids who entered the system late went through 3 to 9 placements, but Keith has no idea if that’s true or not. Suddenly Lance shakes his head and Keith another look of concern, eyebrows sloping down a little. “Never mind, that’s not what I meant anyway. What were those families like?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Keith answers quickly, because he doesn’t want Lance to find out what his foster families were like. Other kids had it worse than Keith, but he knew he wasn’t wanted and _why_ he wasn’t. Keith doesn’t like to think about those years. Not anymore. “That’s the past. The future is me graduating in three years and joining the army so I can pay the Shirogane’s back for everything and focus on the mission.”

“The mission? Like of the U.S. Army?” Lance asks with a small frown, eyebrows s pressing together as though he’s trying to imagine Keith in the army. Keith can’t blame him, even Shiro had been surprised when he said he wanted to join the ROTC. He is pretty impulsive. Keith shrugs slightly, because that’s not the mission he means anyway. He means protecting people and plants and making Shiro proud. Keith will worry about the details of _how_ to make that work later. “But … this is why you think can’t have friends anymore.”

Keith bites his lip a little as he stares over at Lance, gaze growing a little sad as he realizes that he fooled Lance too. For someone as bad at lying as Keith is, no one sees through his walls. Not really. “Yeah, the mission matters more than –“

“That’s not what I meant,” Lance cuts him off with a piercing gaze and Keith stiffens as he realizes that Lance understood, Lance understands what Keith means. Or he understands something, because Keith isn’t even sure what he means half the time. Keith just knows he’s supposed to be alone. But he’s not right now, and the weight of that makes Keith’s chest ache in a way it hasn’t since Shiro first asked him to come home with him for dinner four years ago.

“I – I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Lance,” Keith whispers in a quiet voice, standing up from his chair as Lance takes a step back to give him the room to get a few feet away from Lance. Lance nods back, expression softening a little as he waves with one hand. Keith stops for a second by the library door, giving Lance a weak smile as he nods at him, hoping his eyes aren’t as red as they feel. He thinks they are by the gentle look on Lance’s face, but Keith almost doesn’t care as he walks out of the library.

Keith feels strangely heavy and light at the same time, as though a weight’s been taken off of him and a new one added at the same time. Keith’s finally told someone the truth about what happened the night his dad died, all the cruel things Keith spat in his face and the way he ran away just like Keith runs away from everything. And Lance didn’t reject him. Lance had held him like he was something precious, something worth loving. Keith shivers a little in the cool night’s air as he remembers the hug, the other weight coming down on him a little more as he gets back to his room and launches himself at his bed.

Keith knows this weight, warmer and kinder but no less scary than the guilt and fears that still fray the edges of his mind. It’s one he’s always felt toward Lance, the one that makes him want to protect Lance and let Lance protect him. Keith knows he’ll be afraid of that feeling again in the morning, or that maybe it will seem like a childish dream. But for now he lets it lull him to sleep.

* * *

Lance wakes up at around noon Saturday, running a hand through his messy hair and the curls falling across his forehead. He knows he should get brunch or call Hunk or even Keith because they’re probably friends again? Keith cried in his arms, and Lance feels like you can’t just be strangers after that. But Lance knows exactly where he’s going this morning, because his mind is still buzzing with questions and fears from last night. Lance needs to know more about Keith if he’s going to be his friend and help Keith realize that he’s still Keith. Lance knows he needs to talk to someone else about Keith, someone who knows about Keith’s walls.

The problem is the only person he knows who knows Keith as anything outside of ‘Lance’s childhood friend turned maybe rival’ is well. Shiro. Lance knows that he’s probably crossing some kind of moral line/breaking a rule in the bro code/etc. by approaching Shiro about Keith without Keith knowing. But Shiro’s the only one who knows why Keith locked himself away like this or became so defensive or afraid of crying in the first place, and Lance needs to know why if he’s going to save Keith (and maybe he shouldn’t call it saving, but Lance doesn’t know what else to call it right now).

So Lance makes his way down the hall three doors, gently knocking at the slightly wider door at the end of the hall. Nothing happens for a minute, and Lance starts to worry he missed Shiro entirely. Then the door swings open, revealing a black T-shirt and matching track pants, Shiro’s hair sticking up in three ways and his eyes heavy with sleep. Lance raises an eyebrow and smirks a little, suddenly feeling less bad about coming here in in his blue pajamas. At least his match, Shiro’s are two different shades of black.

“Hey, there’s like, probably a 60% chance me coming to talk to you about this is a bad idea, but you’re the only person I have to talk to, so here we are,” Lance says without preamble as he walks into Shiro’s room. Shiro closes the door behind him and then turns to Lance, expression more alert as he furrows his brow a little, one hand pressed against his hip. Oh right, Shiro doesn’t know why he’s here, so Lance probably just sounds rude. “I always thought you were really cool, on student council.”

“Thank you?” Shiro mumbles, eyebrows scrunching together a little more as he gestures for Lance to sit in the chair by his computer. Lance walks toward it, wringing out his hands a little before he slid onto so his chest was pressed against the front of the seat and his legs were wrapped the back. Shiro sits on his bed, one arm pressing against his thigh and fingers resting beneath his chin as he gives Lance a warm smile. “But Lance, you should know you can always come to me with any problem you’re having. Even if I can’t help you, hopefully I can find you the right resources. That’s what I’m here for.”

“It’s about Keith,” Lance admits with a small sigh, gazing at the wall behind Shiro for a moment before he meets Shiro’s gaze. Shiro nods, lips pressed into a thin line and gaze a little tighter than it was a second ago. Maybe Keith already told him what happened last night.

Shiro takes a deep breath, leaning in a little and dropping his voice, as though he’s afraid Keith is going to burst into the room out of nowhere. Lance has seen him crawl up a pole before, so honestly, it’s not impossible. “Is he still not eating?”

“Has that been a problem?” Lance asks, voice growing a little tighter as he remembers how tired Keith looked yesterday. His skin had been a little paler than usual, slight bags under his eyes. Lance thought it was just from the emotional weight Keith’s been carrying, but he can’t imagine not eating helps. But it does make Lance feel even better about all the fancy coffee he’s been throwing at Keith this week. He’s saving his life after all. Lance smiles softly, gaze growing fond as he remembers the way Keith’s eyes light up whenever he takes a sip. “I’ve been buying him all kinds of dessert.”

“You have been? Are you flirting with him? Because I can’t advise you on that, it crosses a lot of lines,” Shiro says as he leans back in his chair, frowning as he furrows his brow a little more. His gaze is a combination between confused and terrified, and Lance would think it’s funny if he knew well, anything about Keith’s and Shiro’s relationship beyond that they’ve lived together for the past three years and that Keith worships the ground he walks on.

Lance takes a deep breath as he leans toward Shiro, giving him a nervous smile and hoping what he says next means something to Shiro. It will be bad for this conversation and for his pride otherwise. “No, look so … Keith and I met for the first time when we were 5, I’m the Lance from his stories.”

“You’re Lance,” Shiro mutters, eyes widening with shock as his mouth hangs open for a second. Then Shiro gives Lance a considering, curious gaze, one Lance imagines he’s given Shiro too. At least he knows now that Keith’s mentioned him. Shiro’s expression grows a little warmer as he talks. “Keith doesn’t talk about his past a lot but … I know you were important to him.”

“Keith’s still important to me. I want to be his friend again,” Lance says with a slow shake of his head, because he knows he sounds childish. But he needs to get through this conversation, for his sake and for Keith’s. And Shiro just nods, a flash of open in his gaze that makes Lance think that Shiro can see all the ways Keith is floundering and burying all the good things about him too. “I’m trying to be, and I think I’m making pretty good headway, but there are a lot of gaps I need help filling in.”

“That’s really not appropriate to do, as your RA,” Shiro tells him after a moment, crossing his arms in a way that reminds Lance a little of Keith, though his posture is less anxious. Shiro’s frown grows tighter as he seems to consider the idea.

“What about as Keith’s … cool person?” Lance begins, trailing off as he tries to think of what to call Shiro here. He has no idea if Keith actually considers Shiro his brother or his best friend, or … or they could be dating. Keith doesn’t let people in that easily, and … no wait, then Shiro would have told him when he thought Lance had a crush on Keith. Not dating. _Good_. Lance decides to ignore the intensity of that lost thought for now, the brief flash of Keith’s cooked smile and soft gaze, because he’s trying to be his friend, not his boyfriend.

“Probably even less as that,” Shiro points out with a small laugh, shaking his head a bit as he glances over at Lance. Lance slumps a little over the top of Shiro’s chair, because he knows he’s right, but that doesn’t really help him. Shiro gives him a small, understanding smile. “I know Keith can seem a little … aggressive sometimes, but Keith’s a good person. He’s loyal and caring and sensitive if he lets you in, kind of shy, but you couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

“Trust me, I’m aware of all of that, I’m pretty good at seeing through Keith’s defenses,” Lance promises with a low exhale of relief that his belief that his Keith still exists is confirmed. Keith’s walls are just keeping Lance from him, like Keith is Princess Peach and Bowser at the same time. “It’s just all the new walls I’m not getting.”

“Keith didn’t have the easiest time in foster care before my mom and I were able to bring him home,” Shiro says in a soft voice after a second, gaze growing distant and heavy. Lance sits up a little higher in his chair, eyebrows going up as he looks over at Shiro. Shiro glances back at him and lets out a sound that’s almost a groan, giving Lance a weak smile like he’s trying to reassure him that Keith’s fine. It mostly does the opposite. “It’s not, it could’ve been worse, but it made Keith think he had to keep everyone at arm’s length.”

“But not you,” Lance mutters before he can stop himself, a hint of bitterness and jealousy in his voice. Lance shakes his head a little, giving Shiro a sheepish grin as he clutches the chair a little tighter. He hopes he didn’t offend Shiro before he even got any answers on Keith. Lance just wants to be close to Keith too, wants to know all of his secrets and see all those soft smiles and awkward moments that he got to as a kid. And Shiro has all of that and Lance doesn’t right now. So yeah, he’s a little jealous.

“That took time,” Shiro tells him with a piercing look, the gentle smile on his face showing he knew what Lance was thinking. Apparently his poker face isn’t any better than _Keith’s_. Then Lance’s expression grows more serious, concern entering his gaze as he looks at Lance. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth the effort. I’m sure you know as well as I do that Keith is rough around the edges, but he’s worth it.”

“Yeah, I know, thanks, Shiro,” Lance says in a small voice as he gets up from the chair and walks to the door, giving the other boy a quick nod. He’s no closer to solving the puzzle that is Keith Kim than he was when he went into Shiro’s room. Except that now he knows even Keith’s family (friend? Lance will figure it out later) think he’s rough. No wonder Keith thinks he needs to isolate himself.

Lance walks back to his room, empty since Hunk is visiting Shay this weekend. It’s kind of lonely, with him being the only one there. Except he isn’t. Keith’s just beyond that bathroom door. Lance gathers his pride and knocks on the door, waiting to see if there’s any sound on the other side. He hears the sound of weights being dropped, a low groan. Then the door swings open, revealing Keith with slightly flushed cheeks, hair pulled back into a messy bun that shows off his lean neck and sharp shoulder blades. A small part of Lance starts to rethink the not wanting to date Keith thing, but the rest of him tells that part to stay focused.

“Hey Keith, are you busy?” Lance asks as he leans one arm against the doorframe, trying to seem casual. Keith’s eyebrows shoot up, mouth open slightly as he shakes his head. Weird, but Lance can work with weird. It’s not a no at least. “We never actually ended up working on our project yesterday.”

“I’m free,” Keith mutters as he steps aside so Lance can come in, narrowing his gaze as Lance slides down on his bed. Keith’s biting his lip though, concentrating so much that Lance expects his tongue to dart out like a cat. Then Keith’s eyebrows slope down, gaze becoming anxious and confused as takes a step toward Lance. “You still want to work on it with me after yesterday?”

Lance blinks owlishly as Keith crosses his arms against his chest, glancing up at the ceiling while Lance stares at him. Because what? Lance furrows his brow, cocking his head a little as Keith finally slides onto the bed next to him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I cried in front of you,” Keith mumbles, voice so soft Lance almost doesn’t hear him through where he has his hands pressed against his face. Keith glances over at him through his fingers, and Lance has to bite back a literal ‘aww’ because of how cute Keith just was. Has Keith always been this cute? Lance thought he was when they were kids, sure, but he had a huge crush on him then so he was biased. Now Lance is free of that, but Keith is no less adorable in his own awkward way.

“Yeah, don’t know how bad your memory’s gotten, but that’s not the first time you’ve done that, buddy,” Lance reminds him with a soft chortle, the blue sleeve of his hoodie brushing against Keith’s bare arm. Keith looks a little sheepish, because this is actually about the 30th time Lance has seen him cry. The last time before this was because they found a snail dying in his front yard. Keith tried to save it by pouring glasses of water on it and named it Klaizap (which means nothing) when it died.

“No, I guess not,” Keith admits and then gives Lance that crooked smile of his, glancing over at him as he finally drops his hands to his sides. Neither of them say anything for a minute, a silence that’s more comfortable than Lance would’ve expected passing between them. Then Keith jumps to his feet as suddenly as he sat down. “Oh, do you want something to drink? I have water and Gatorade, and juice?”

Lance cocks his head, lips flat as he stares over at where Keith is rummaging through his mini fridge. He’s trying to process Keith’s words, but not sure he heard him right. “Juice?”

“Yeah, there’s apple or orange or grape,” Keith says as he turns around, holding up three boxes. Lance raises an eyebrow as a smiling orange and apple stare back at him. The grape’s face is in the second of four grapes, and Lance forces himself not to think too hard about what that means for its anatomy.

Keith holds them up with a confused look, as though he can’t figure out why Lance is staring at him right now, expression a mixture of shock and amusement. Lance lets out a small snort, shaking his head so some of his curls fall across his forehead in a way he knows is cute. Keith is actually ridiculous. “You still drink it out of a box? You know you’re not 12 anymore, right?”

“Very funny, Lance. Just for that I’m giving you grape juice,” Keith says with a small scoff, rolling his eyes as he sticks the orange back in the fridge. Keith still likes apple juice best. The thought makes Lance smile a little, soft and wistful as Keith presses the grape in his hand. Lance wonders if Keith remembers he secretly loved grape or he really sees it as a punishment for him. Lance is too afraid to ask, though. He won’t be able to stand it if Keith really did forget.

“Wow, the betrayal. How will we ever move past it in our burgeoning friendship?” Lance says instead in a melodramatic voice, pressing his hand over his heart. He leans back against Keith’s bed like he’s about to faint, collapsing against the pillows for a moment. Keith lets out a small, high laugh, crossing his arms as he leans over with a smirk, though there’s a teasing warmth in his gaze Lance hasn’t seen in years. Maybe Keith remembers more than he lets on after all.

“… You’ll get over it the same way I got over you calling me a hothead in front of our entire third grade class,” Keith whispers with that same smirk as he leans over enough so his breath is hot against Lance’s ear. Lance flushes and tries to convince himself it was out of sheepishness and not out of attraction to Keith’s stupid smirk.

“Or you calling me extra weight when I sat on the back of your bike,” Lance says as he leans up so there’s only a few inches between their mouth, looking up at Keith through hooded eyes. This time Keith flushes and practically lunges himself to the other side of the bed. Lance doesn’t miss the way his flush spreads down from his cheeks down his neck, gazing up at the ceiling like it will rescue him from whatever embarrassment he’s feeling.

Once his blush finally fades away along with Lance’s occasional giggles, Keith finally meets his gaze with a tight one of his own. Keith’s mouth is a small ‘o’, arms crossed but with none of the usual ‘bad boy’ air he tries to project. Instead he just looks curious and vulnerable. “Did you come here to talk about childhood fights?”

“No, just to let you know that … you’re not going to scare me off that easily,” Lance says instead as he bumps arms with Keith again. Keith’s eyes go wide or a moment, expression still the classic one of confusion. Then he smiles, sweet and thankful, bumping shoulders back with Lance as he reaches over to grab his notes. Lance can’t help but returning the grin with one of his own as he grabs his half of the research so far so they can line up their work together.

Keith and Lance spend the rest of the afternoon like that, pressed together and playfully arguing about different stories about aliens. Keith’s laugh doesn’t come often (not nearly as often as his yawns), but when it does, Lance can’t help but feel a sense of pride that he’s the one who caused it. Lance is almost sad when they go through their third round of juice boxes and Keith says, in a voice Lance swears is disappointed, that he has to go to ROTC practice. Lance watches him go from the bathroom, and ignores the soft beat of his heart. What matters is that they’re friends again. That’s all.

* * *

Keith is both surprised and not surprised to find Lance waving at him from the other side of the door when he gets back from his run Sunday morning, smile bright as he stands there with two coffees. Keith grins back, and gestures at the shower with his thumb and Lance nods, sliding out of the room with a slow shimmy. Lance is being a dork, but Keith can’t help but stare at those languid hips as Lance slides out the door, letting out a low groan once its shut entirely. Lance shouldn’t be sexy when he’s wearing sweat pants and a tank top with a picture of Mario on it, but there he was with his loose hips and bright eyes. Keith wants to die.

Keith takes his shower as quickly as possible, pulling on his favorite red hoodie and a pair of black leggings. Keith glances around his room and his eyebrows slope down as he sees that half his floor is covered with articles on alien sightings and drawings, all connected with pieces of blue, red, green, yellow, and black string based on the common tie. So much for Lance not finding out he’s weird on top of being an aloof asshole. Great. He could make Lance wait until he cleans it up, but that will be at least an hour and the coffee will get cold.

Keith bites his lips and lets out a low sigh, before his door open and walking the few feet of the bathroom to knock on Lance’s and Hunk’s door. Lance grins over at him, pressing a coffee into his hand as they make the short walk back to his bedroom. Keith winces a little as he leads Lance into the room, carefully leaping over articles and books attached to the strings. He might be embarrassed by his research, but he’s still not going to disrupt it.

“Hey Lance, sorry about the mess, I was looking up aliens and I started trying to connect events,” Keith explains with a slight wince as he sees Lance’s eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up so high that they’re obscured by his slowly growing bangs. Keith wonders how long it will be before Lance is the one with a mullet. Keith wonders how much he should rub that in when he does. “It got kind of detailed.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of string, Keith,” Lance says with a slow drawl, leaning over to pluck at one with his thumb and index finger. Lance almost knocks it off and Keith lets out a small pained sound as he leans over to put it back in place. Lance giggles, shaking his head and holding his hands up as a peace offering. Keith rolls his eyes, mostly out of embarrassment. But he did work really hard on laying out all the connections.

“Yeah, I mean, there were a lot of things to put together, but here I can clear off my desk too,” Keith mutters as he stands up, carefully stepping through a few different string patterns until he gets to his desk. He starts grabbing his homework for other classes and jams them into his desk drawers, papers sticking out messily. He feels Lance’s breath hot on his neck as his arm, long but with fine lines of lean muscle Keith can’t help but gaze at, reaches over Keith’s shoulder and grabs something off the top shelf. His knife.

“Is that a sword?” Lance asks with a scoff, eyebrows scrunching together as he flips it between his hands. Keith swallows back all the harsh words as he watches Lance run his hands over the black and purple handle. Lance doesn’t know what the knife means, Keith reminds himself as he closes his eyes and counts to five. It’s not his fault. “I guess it’s more of a knife, but it’s definitely not a kitchen knife and definitely not something you got permission to have in your room. You rebel.”

“It’s important to me. It belonged to my mom,” Keith whispers, just loud enough for Lance to hear, gaze dropping to his bare feet as he digs one foot into it. He can hear Lance’s sharp intake of breath, and Keith forces himself to meet his gaze. Lance’s eyebrows are sloped down, gaze sad as he brushes a hand against his shoulder. Keith pushes down the urge to push it off and instead lets himself lean into the gentle comfort of the touch. “It’s all I have left from before she left.”

Lance cocks his head a little, gaze sad and confused at the same time as he looks at Keith. Keith never talks about his mom, not even as a kid when he and Lance were friends. She disappeared when he was just a toddler, and no one ever found a trace of her afterwards. Keith mostly tries not to think about it. He had his dad and he was great. Lance though, is giving him a painfully kind look as he takes a step closer to him. “Keith …”

“What did you do?” Keith says as he takes a step back and out of Lance’s touch, glancing away from Lance and toward his poster of Pokémon Sun and Moon. Lance follows his gaze, grinning a little as he takes in the poster. Keith turns back to him with a small shrug. “After I left, I mean. You kind of know what I did, but I don’t know anything about how those six years were for you.”

“You never googled me? Not even once?” Lance asks, shaking his head and letting out a pained groan as he takes a step back and then sits on Keith’s bed. He leans against the headboard like he belongs there, giving Keith a mock-wounded look that has a little bit of hurt underneath.

Keith scrunches his eyebrows together as he sits on the bed next to him, crossing his arms lightly. Of course he didn’t. Keith didn’t think he deserved to have Lance in his life anymore, and he knew if he googled Lance that he’d tempted to contact him. And Keith has never been good at controlling his impulses. Keith smirks a little, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you get famous in the past six years?”

“No, no, I didn’t. I mean, a meme of mine went viral, but not actually famous,” Lance tells him with a small grin, wriggling his eyebrows as he holds up his phone and an image of Link from Zelda on a skateboard flashes front of Keith's face. Keith gives him a weak smile for a second, and Lance lets out a low sigh as he shakes his head. Yeah, Keith’s never seen it before. He’s only seen like five memes in his life. “Mostly I went to middle school and high school.”

“Kind of guessed that,” Keith teases with a small chortle, because it’s nice to know he’s not the only one who can be awkward. He’s not able to hold back his laughter as Lance throws a pillow at him. It softly hits Keith in the chest and Keith lets out another small snicker before tossing it back at him, Lance giggling himself by this point. It’s nice, familiar. Keith feels like he’s 11 again.

“Well, jerk, I started playing tennis in middle school because my aim was so good, I’m actually better at it than I ever was at soccer,” Lance says with playful grin, sticking his tongue out after jerk. Lance leans forward, wrapping his legs around his knees as he smiles over at Keith. Keith glances back at him, eyebrows going up a little as Lance keeps going. “You’d be impressed. I kept swimming too, but more for fun now than anything else. I also was in drama club, I was in _West Side Story_ and _Hamlet_. I was Laertes, before you get too excited.” 

“You did a lot,” Keith mutters softly, shaking his head a little, because Keith’s extracurriculars were mostly things he could do by himself, besides soccer. But then Lance has always been the outgoing one. “How did you meet Hunk?”

“And I met Hunk in middle school too, and it was like fate, you know? Destined to be best friends. You’ll like him,” Lance tells him with a warm smile, gaze softening a little as he talks about his friend. Keith gives a brief nod, just managing not to grimace and instead biting his lip. He’s sure he’ll like Hunk. Keith just doubts Hunk or any of the other people Lance goes onto name will like him. “His girlfriend Shay is great too, and Pidge, though she’s a few year behind us. Nyma and Rollo were the grade above us, and she actually goes here too. What about you?”

“Wow, you must’ve met a lot of people,” Keith says, eyes wide with both admiration and surprise. He didn’t even know you could have that many friends. Lance raises an eyebrow when Keith doesn’t say anything else for a beat, and suddenly Keith remembers what Lance asked. His life over the past six years isn’t nearly as impressive. Fuck. “Oh right. I started playing soccer in middle school because … I’ve got good reflexes and I’m pretty agile. I took up yoga to try and help calm me down, but I don’t really think it’s worked. And I went to school, a couple of them actually. I volunteered cleaning up parks?”

Lance nods, smiling a little when Keith mentions yoga, wriggling his eyebrows as he glances down at where Keith’s legs are bent in what he realizes what might be a weird way. Keith shrugs, leaning forward so his elbows are resting on his knee too. Sometimes Keith likes to show off too. Then Lance frowns tightly, eyebrows scrunching together as he gives Keith a pointed look. “Did you –“

“I didn’t really have any friends except Shiro, sometimes Allura or Matt are there, but they’re his friends, not mine,” Keith answers, trying to keep his voice casual as he glances away from Lance and around the room instead. He and Allura might be friends? or they could be, Keith doesn’t really know how to tell when someone’s your friend unless they tell him. “I mean, they’re not bad, I just. I was usually alone.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that you don’t have to be anymore,” Lance says with a small smile, leaning over so his hand brushes against Keith’s shoulder again. Keith’s eyes widen as he catches onto Lance’s meaning, not quite able to keep the flush off of his face as he looks down at the blanket.

“Yeah. We should probably actually work on the project at some point,” Keith points out as he keeps his gaze glued to his red comforter, leaning over to grab one of the books from his desk. He lays it between them, frown tight as he flips to the last page he bookmarked.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Lance mutters in a slightly hurt voice, and when Keith glances up at him, Lance’s gaze is heavy and his eyebrows sloped down. Oh. That probably sounded like Keith was rejecting him. Keith gives him a small smile, making his gaze as tender as he can as he brushes a hand over Lance’s, trying to say without saying it that he’s happy Lance doesn’t want him to be alone. Keith has no idea why Lance is so interested in being his friend again, but he’s grateful. “I was thinking we could split the research? I’m actually pretty good at making plans, so I sort of laid out a study and work system. I figure you’re probably better with stories and I’m better with actual data.”

“I want to be offended, but you’re probably right,” Keith murmurs, giving Lance a slightly sheepish look. Keith’s always been good with ideas, the bigger picture or whatever he’s focused on at the moment. But details and data have never been his thing. Lance was always better at keeping track of that, and at making sure they had a plan. And that – well, Keith could go on all day about why Lance is great and he’s not, but he doesn’t know if that’s a good idea right now. Lance glances back at him and smiles a little, handing him his folder. Keith flips through the pages, eyes widening at the numbers and details a guidelines. “Lance this is really thorough.”

Lance looks over at the door, letting out a small laugh that Keith can tell doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I guess it’s a little over the top.”

“No, no, I mean it’s really impressive,” Keith says as he reaches over and grabs Lance’s hand without thinking, squeezing it softly. Keith can’t help staring at Lance with pride, because Lance has always been such a strategic thinker, so good with logic and plans and all the things Keith can never figure out, and not enough people realize that. Lance seems to understand though, giving Keith a tender smile, gaze growing soft in a way it hasn’t for Keith since they were kids. He wonders what got his message across so clearly.

Keith realizes that it’s him holding Lance’s hand when the other boy looks down, Keith’s gaze following his with a soft ‘oh’. Keith lets go, but his fingers linger in the air for a few seconds afterwards. He and Lance sit a little closer on the bed after that, and Keith tries to tell himself it probably doesn’t mean anything.

* * *

The next week passes by quickly, with Lance dragging Keith to many library hangouts and spending a shocking amount of time sitting on Keith’s bed going over their project or arguing about video games. Keith is a Nintendo loyalist, but Lance will help him see the truth someday. Other video games can be good too. Lance comes into Keith’s room unannounced, sitting next to Keith on the bed without a word. Keith glances over at him, hand buried in a box of gold fish. Keith really does eat like he’s still 12. Lance needs to take him out of this room and out into the real world, introduce him to bread.

Actually, maybe Lance does need to do that. After all, Lance and Keith are friends again now, or Lance hopes they are. There’s no reason they have to keep using the guise of their project as a reason to hang out. They can just hang out. Lance tries to think of the best way to approach this as he leans towards Keith, peering at the other boy. Keith squints back at him, letting out a small yawn (Keith yawns a lot) as he pushes the goldfish toward him.

“This is number 9,” Lance tells him with a small grin as he grabs a handful. Sure, he might make fun of Keith for mostly living on snack food, but that doesn’t mean Lance is going to turn it down. Keith cocks his head, scrunching his eyebrows together. Lance lets out a small scoff, because Keith has never been good with numbers. “The 9th time we’ve hung out since orientation when you told me you were dead.”

“I said the old me was dead,” Keith mumbles under his breath, flushing a little as he glares at Lance without any heat. Lance smirks at him, raising an eyebrow as he leans over and pokes Keith on the shoulder. Even Keith must realize the mistake he just made. After a second, Keith lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as he rolls his eyes as Lance grins victoriously. “I know that makes it more of a Taylor Swift reference, but what’s your point?”

“Just, I was wondering if maybe,” Lance starts and then stops, wincing a little as he tries to think of the right way to say what he means. Lance gives Keith a weak smile, eyebrows sloping down as he finally decides to just ask, even if it ends up being embarrassing and painful at the same time. “Are we friends again yet?”

Keith looks back at him with wide eyes, mouth forming into a small frown as he stares at Lance. A few seconds that feel like a million pass before Keith answers him, voice soft as he gives Lance a small smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’re friends.”

“Well, good then, the tension in not knowing was starting to get kind of rough,” Lance says with a playful grin , trying to keep his voice level, even though on the inside he’s dancing across the room. Lance raises an eyebrow as Keith’s eyes stay wide and mouth slightly open, not taking his gaze off of Lance. Okay, this is getting a little weird, if in a way that makes Lance feel warm and a little tingly. “You look surprised.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to – I’m not really a good friend,” Keith mutters as he crosses his arms, rubbing his fingers over his thumb as he glances up at Lance. Lance frowns, eyebrows scrunching together as he Keith a pointed look. He’s been trying to be Keith’s friend again since he saw him at orientation, so it’s not like this information is new. Keith bites his lip before he starts talking again. “Teamwork’s not really my thing. I mean, it’s gotten better with soccer but I don’t talk to anyone outside of practice so it’s not the same, and no one at ROTC pre-training talks at all, and I don’t … I’m bad at this.”

“You’re not as bad as you think, and you’ve been steadily improving over the past three weeks, I have to say,” Lance says as he gestures around them, at how comfortable they are sitting together on Keith’s bed. Sure, it helps that they have seven years of history between them too, but still. “If I were your teacher, I’d give you a gold star.”

“I’d put it on the front of my journal,” Keith quips with a smirk, gaze playful as he relaxes a little, playing with the edge of his sleeve as he leans toward Lance a little.

“Aw, how sweet, see you are getting better,” Lance tells him as he throws an arm around Keith’s shoulder. He half expects Keith to push it off, but instead Keith leans into the touch a little bit, grabbing another handful of goldfish from the box between them. All of it makes Lance more confident that his next words are the right choice. “So good, actually, we should take this outside of the dorm and the library.”

“What are you are talking about?” Keith asks with a small frown, eyebrows rising as he pops a goldfish in his mouth, leaning back a little on the bed so he can look Lance in the eye. Lance takes a deep breath, leaning back too match Keith’s posture as he prepares himself for his second big question. It’s a little less nerve-wracking now that he knows he and Keith are friends, but Lance is still a bit nervous to put it on the table.

“Hanging out when we’re not just working on this project,” Lance answers with a bright grin, faking a confidence he doesn’t feel. Keith coughs, eyebrows rising as he stares over at him. For a second Lance is afraid he’s choking on his goldfish, and what a way to go, but then Keith’s coughing stops. He gives Lance his confused look, nodding at him to keep going. Lance bites back a laugh and then goes for broke. He’s pretty sure Keith’s going to say yes. “And at the dining hall or a restaurant, or just by the lake.”

Keith nods at him, but then his gaze becomes a little anxious. Keith brushes his hand against the edge of his hoodie sleeve, fraying the material a little more. “With other people?”

“It could just be one on one if that’s more comfortable?” Lance offers with a soft smile, eyebrows sliding down a little as Keith looks up at him. Lance can see the mix of embarrassment and relief in them, and decides he’ll use another night to make Keith becomes friends with Hunk and maybe Pidge. This time can just be for them. Lance wriggles his eyebrows a little as he moves in a little closer to Keith. “And honestly, it’s get kind of nice having your full attention.”

“Thanks,” Keith murmurs in a slightly weak voice, eyelashes fluttering a little as he stares over at Lance. He brushes some of his hair off of his shoulder. Lance wonders if he should tell him it’s not a mullet anymore, but decides against it. He wants a few more weeks of teasing Keith about it, seeing the weak glares and angry huffs. They’re kind of cute, in their own way. Keith glances at him, giving him a crooked smile that looks a little more like a grimace. “I mean, outside of practice and my mornings runs with Shiro, I’m pretty free. If you want to do anything, I mean.”

“Keith, I’m the one who asked you if you wanted to hang out,” Lance says with a chuckle, letting his arm fall back across Keith’s shoulders. Keith nods a little, expression still a little anxious as he stares over at Lance. Lance isn’t sure why the tension in the air right now is so thick, but he knows he wants to cut through it. “So yeah, I’d like to go out to dinner with you.”

“Like a date?” Keith asks as he stares at Lance and blinks owlishly. Then Lance watches as Keith winces and closes his eyes, that flush from earlier coming back. Lance suddenly wonders if _that_ might be the tension in the air. Does Keith want to go out with him? But then would he close his eyes and look away?? Lance isn’t sure what signals he’s getting here.

“I mean, yeah, it would kind of be like a date,” Lance tells him instead of answering his question. Keith opens his eyes and stares back at him, biting his lip a little. Lance runs a hand through his hair as he watches Keith ball his hands into fists nervously. Keith doesn’t want to go out with him, he wouldn’t look so freaked out by Lance’s answer otherwise. “Hanging out with your friends and dates isn’t that different. Don’t look so nervous, Keith, you’d know if I was asking you out.”

“You were pretty clear the first time around,” Keith agrees as he looks away from Lance and toward the wall. Keith’s expression is blank as he suddenly shifts away from Lance’s arm. Keith turns back to him with a small smile that doesn’t mask the wistfulness in his gaze. Lance is more confused than ever, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to follow where Keith is leading him. “I mean, you know, when we were kids. And you told me you liked me, you were pretty clear. I said that already.”

“Yeah, you did,” Lance sighs as he realizes that it’s their childhood Keith is wistful for, not him. Lance tries to push down the disappointment he feels at that, because it’s not fair to want to be the center of Keith’s world. Besides, he doesn’t like Keith like that anymore. Lance grins over at Keith, subtly shifting away from him on the bed so their legs aren’t touching anymore. “But anyway, dinner tomorrow? We can get fries and talk about something besides aliens. Maybe the loch ness monster.”

“Yeah,” Keith says as he returns Lance’s grin with a small smile, leaning his head toward him. The wistfulness hasn’t quite left his gaze, but there is something a little lost there. “Or you could tell me about your favorite movies.”

“We’ll do that too,” Lance assures him with a grin as he leans over and ruffles Keith’s hair, trying to get the wistful look out of his gaze. It does, but it’s replaced with something that makes Lance’s heart hurt just as much for a moment, but the emotion flickers away as quickly as it came. Keith smiles at him, though it’s closer to a smirk, and hands Lance a book.

Still, even as they spend hours comfortably working out their presentation for their research, Lance can’t help but remember the look in Keith’s eyes and wonder what it meant.


	4. Hold My Hand

Keith goes through his third outfit with a low sigh, coming out of his closet and raising an eyebrow as Allura gives him an appraising look, tossing her white braid over her shoulder. Keith doesn’t understand how he ended up in this situation. He’d just stopped by Shiro’s room to tell him he was having dinner with Lance on Friday while Shiro was on the phone with Allura, and the next thing he knew she was coming down to help with his date. The thing is, Keith isn’t on a date, even if he wanted to be (which he doesn’t. Probably.) And there’s no reason he needs to try on six different outfits for Shiro and Allura.

“Does this look okay?” Keith asks despite that thought, biting his lip as he glances down at his oversized red sweater that falls to his hips and his black skinny jeans with a rip in one knee. They look like they were designed that way, but it’s actually from Keith trying to crawl under a fence. Lance doesn’t need to know that. Keith shrugs, wincing when one of the shoulders falls off a little. Does that make it seem like he’s trying to flirt? _Is_ he trying to flirt?

“It looks like what you wear everyday,” Shiro tells him with a shrug, barely looking up from his textbook. Keith glares at him a little, because that’s not even true. Keith hasn’t worn this sweater in like two years.

“Shiro!” Allura snaps, crossing her arms as she gives him a light kick with one foot. Shiro lets out a small sigh and glances over at his outfit and nods apathetically, though then his gaze softens as he takes in Keith’s scrunched eyebrows and crossed arms. Keith knows he’s radiating nervousness from every inch of his body, but he can’t help it. This is the first time he and Lance have hung out without an excuse. It’s important. Allura gives him a small smile and then an awkward thumbs up, sticking her arm straight out as she does. “You look very sweet, Keith.”

“Thanks, Allura,” Keith mutters as he picks up his red tennis shoes, because the restaurant Lance mentioned is a bit of a walk. Or should he go with his boots? They do have a heel. But Keith kind of likes how tall and lanky Lance turned out, and Lance seems to find how short Keith is (which is only an inch and a half below average, but whatever, Lance) hilarious so maybe the tennis shoes will help make it a good … hang. “Is sweet right for a …”

“Date? It’s how I prefer people to look, at least on the first one,” Allura answers him with a warm smile, voice clipped as she claps her hands together, closing her eyes a she does.

“And you did skip your last one with Lance, so you need to win him back,” Shiro points out next to her, smile growing wide and mischievous as he leans forward a bit, one hand propped under his chin. Next to him, Allura’s eyes go wide as she looks back and forth between Shiro and Keith, gaze growing more and more curious. Eventually she leans forward and mimics Shiro, excepting the shit-eating grin now on his face. Keith regrets ever telling Shiro about what happened in sixth grade.

“It’s not a date!” Keith huffs as he crosses his arms; sleeves shifting over his fingers a little as he does. Keith pulls on the edge of one sleeve softly, glare fading into a more anxious look as he glances over at the two. Suddenly the sweater makes him feel more vulnerable than he’d like. “Neither of you are helpful. Are you sure I shouldn’t wear my leather jacket?”

“You might sweat,” Allura says with a knowing look, as though she’s been there before, eyebrows pressing together as she presses one finger to her mouth. Keith rolls his eyes as she suddenly puts on her cat smile, the one she wears when she realizes she might have said the one wrong thing (Keith wonders if that works better for her than awkwardly rambling does for him. They should compare notes some time). “In a friendly way, of course.”

“Right, I – you’re right, this is fine,” Keith mumbles as he takes a deep breath, because this isn’t a big deal. He’s hung out with Lance plenty of times since they started this project. The only difference tonight is that they won’t be in their dorm or the library or the café. It’s not a big deal. “I’ll see you both later.”

Shiro smiles, gaze growing a little warmer as he suddenly pats Keith on the shoulder as Keith moves toward the door. Allura gets up off his bed, her white tennis skirt swishing in the air as she walks past them and down the hall like she’s already memorized it. Keith gives Shiro a weak smile as he locks his door, and Shiro leans over and ruffles his hair so a few pieces come out of his ponytail. “Don’t stay out too late!”

Keith rolls his eyes, giving Shiro the finger over his shoulder before walking the few feet to Lance’s door. He waits until he sees Shiro go into his room and close the door before knocking. And then he waits some more. Keith carefully tugs some of his hair back into his ponytail, though some if it won’t slide back in, messily falling across his face and obscuring his eyes a little. Good. Now Lance won’t be able to see how nervous he is.

Keith takes a deep breath and knocks on the door just a little too hard, expecting the door to swing open and reveal Lance’s usual charming grin and a bright gaze. That’s not what happens. Instead Lance opens the door with a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, which look almost as anxious as Keith feels most of the time. Keith bites his lip, reaching a hand out and sliding into onto Lance’s shoulder without thinking about it.

“Lance? Are you sure you want to go to dinner? You look kind of sick,” Keith says softly as his eyebrows scrunch together, frowning slightly as Lance gives him a blank look. Keith squeezes his shoulder reassuringly and tries to give him a weak smile.

“No, no, I’m fine, nothing some breadsticks can’t fix,” Lance tells him with a wide grin, this one a little brighter than the smile from before and reaching his gaze. Keith gives him a crooked one back, relief running through him as they walk down the hall, occasionally bumping shoulders and hips as they make small talk about their day. There’s still a tension in the air, one Keith doesn’t understand (because for once he didn’t cause it) but it’s almost gone by the time they reach Olive Garden.

At first things go well, Lance telling Keith about all the movies and television and games he’s been into lately, patiently explaining each plot and reference as Keith nods along and tries to imprint the titles to memory so he can look them up later. Lance lets out a small laugh and tells Keith it’s the same face he used to make when Lance told him about his favorite cartoons as a kid and steals one of his breadsticks. The flow of the conversation is easy and smooth, both of them leaning forward a little more as the night moves on, Keith’s fingers brushing against Lance’s wrist.

Then Keith idly mentions the ROTC and Dr. Iverson, and Lance slowly starts to close himself off, moving further back in his chair. Lance tries to keep the conversation light, but the tension comes back inch-by-inch, Lance slumping into his chair a little more as he moves his pasta around on his plate. Even Keith can tell he’s upset, and Keith is bad at this. By the time the bill comes, Keith is _sure_ that something’s up and it can’t be fixed by Olive Garden’s all you can eat breadsticks.

“Maybe we can go watch _Big Hero Six_ or _Moana_ later, if you want,” Keith murmurs as they walk back toward the dorm, glancing at Lance out of the corner of his eye.

Lance frowns softly as he stares over at Keith, eyebrows scrunching together as he they both come to a stop in front of their dorm. Keith tugs at the edge of his sleeve, biting his lip a bit as he looks up at Lance. Lance takes another step toward him, so there are only a few inches between them, cocking his head and smiling warmly, though it still doesn’t reach his eyes. “What?”

“At dinner, you said I’d like them,” Keith reminds him in a small voice, raising an eyebrow as Lance gives him a blank look. Then Lance nods hurriedly, glancing away from Keith and looking off at the courtyard. There’s something heavy in his gaze, something Keith doesn’t like. Lance should never be anything less than happy. Keith frowns tightly as he brushes a hand in the air near Lance’s side, hands lingering by his waist. “Are you sure you’re okay, Lance?”

“I – Keith, can I ask you something?” Lance says in a small voice as he glances back at him, eyebrows sloped down as he brushes a hand near Keith’s. Keith cocks his head and bites his lip, trying to keep his nerves at bay because he doesn’t want to add them to whatever’s bothering Lance right now. “Do you think our project is going well? Like, on both ends?”

Keith blinks owlishly, trying to process Lance’s words as he rolls them over in his mind. But nothing he does makes the last part of Lance’s questions make sense to him. Keith doesn’t even know what the ‘ends’ are here. “Lance, what are you talking about?”

“Just … I know Professor Iverson thinks I’m kind of deadweight in the STEM program,” Lance groans as he presses a hand over his face, lean fingers tugging a little on a loose curl. Then he pulls a hand back and Keith a sheepish smile, shoulders hunching together as he gives Keith a knowing look. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Dr. Iverson? He said that?” Keith asks in surprise, eyes widening as he clenches one hand into a tight fist. Keith knows that Dr. Iverson can be kind of intense – there’s a reason Keith’s been so exhausted lately that he’s falling asleep in class – and kind of rude, but he didn’t think he was a liar. Keith doesn’t know anyone’s grades, but he knows Lance has always been one of the smartest people in his life and he’s only gotten smarter since they were kids. Iverson is full of shit.

Lance lets out a slow sigh as he gazes down at the gravel walkway below them. Keith slides a hand on his shoulder, giving Lance a crooked smile that he doesn’t return. “Apparently. Only so many people can be in the program Keith, we can both do the math.”

“Leave the math to Pidge!” Keith snaps determinedly, eyes blazing at the idea that Lance could possibly think he’s not good enough. Lance gives him a fond look for a moment, but then it fades into something bemused, eyebrows pressing together as he gives Keith a blank look. Keith shrugs a little, some the fire going out of him as he gives Lance an awkward smile. “You said she was good at math. At dinner. I don’t want a new partner.”

Lance gazes back at Keith, gaze gentle and understanding, but no less anxious than it was before. Keith bites his lip, reaching a hand out and then pulling it back, because they’re not 12 anymore. Some things aren’t the same. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, Keith.”

Keith watches him go inside and stands on the steps outside the door for a few minutes, unable to shake the cold or the sense that he’s screwed up somehow.

* * *

Lance sighs as he remakes the third slide in their show for the fifth time, frowning slightly as he looks over the red and blue background. It’s just … not right. And Lance needs it to be perfect, with Iverson breathing down his neck and Keith there with his perfect grades and soccer scholarship and ROTC. Which, okay, Lance knows it’s not fair to be annoyed with Keith about that. Keith works hard, harder than he probably should since he looks exhausted all the time, so it makes sense he’s doing well. But Lance wants to be as good as Keith, to be good enough _for_ Keith. As a friend, of course.

Lance lets out a low sigh, sliding his arms across his desk before pushing his face into the front of his notepad. That isn’t the issue anyway. It’s that Iverson is, because some higher power out there hates Lance, one of the three people who decide if he gets to stay in the S.T.E.M. program at the end of the year. The other two are Dean Coran, who Lance has a good relationship with, and Dr. Kolivan, who Lance hasn’t met yet. But Iverson _hates_ him, looks down at his nose at Lance and makes him feel smaller than he has in years. It’s like any progress he’s made with his self-esteem in the past few years shriveled up and dies whenever Iverson looks at him.

Suddenly there’s a knock on his door, and Lance bites back a sigh as he makes his to it. Lance isn’t surprised to find Keith on the other side, hair pulled back into a messy bun, smiling weakly as he holds up his computer in one hand and a coffee in the other. Right. They’re supposed to work on the project together today.

“Hey Keith, I’ve got a little more research to put together,” Lance murmurs in a small voice, raising an eyebrow pointedly even as he steps to the side so Keith can come in his room. Hopefully Keith will take the hint and show him his slides and let Lance brood in peace. He’s not very good at it, so he needs time to build up to get a really good one in. Keith doesn’t open his laptop though; he just sits on Lance’s bed and stares up at him with his Margaret Keane eyes. “Keith?”

“About the other day, I wanted to say, you shouldn’t worry. About staying in STEM, I mean,” Keith says in a firm voice, crossing his arms a little as he stares up at Lance, gaze tight and determined. It’s the same expression he used to make right before he got into a fight or an argument in elementary school.

“Yeah, that’s not really how it works, Keith,” Lance mutters with a low groan as he slides onto the bed next to Keith, pressing his face into his hands again. He knows Keith is trying, he does, but … Lance is gonna worry. His grades are good, but they’re not perfect, and Iverson doesn’t think he has any potential and he’s not one of his ROTC golden boys. He has plenty of reason to worry.

“No, no, I mean – look, Lance, you’re better than you think!” Keith cries, throwing his arms out in the air and waving them a little as he leans toward Lance. Lance knows that Keith is trying his best here, but Keith has no idea just how low Lance is feeling about himself right now. He might as well be a centipede he’s so close to the ground.

Lance blinks a little, giving Keith a weak smile. Keith stares back at him, gaze growing more and more unsure as he bites his lips. Then something thoughtful and intense comes into his gaze as he suddenly inches closer to Lance. Lance cocks his head a bit, because he’s not sure what Keith’s getting at right now. “Thanks?”

Keith lets out a small sigh, suddenly brushing his fingers against Lance’s own and just resting them there, feather-light, for a second. Lance stares down at Keith’s hand, small and thin as he nervously spreads his fingers a little wider over Lance’s own, touch growing firmer as Lance hears him swallow. Then Keith laces their fingers together, his own warm hand a surprisingly nice mix of callouses and soft skin. Keith squeezes his hand a little, a firm reminder that Keith is there, wants to be there with Lance right now.

“Sorry, if this is weird, I can stop holding your hand if you want me too,” Keith whispers when neither of them say anything for a few minutes, gazing down at his lap and tapping on his thigh with his free hand a little. Lance kind of wants to reach over and grab that one too, but he doesn’t know if that would be too forward.

“No, no, it’s nice, really nice, actually,” Lance admits as Keith continues to trace little patterns onto his wrist, touch fingers light where his grip is firm. It gives Lance a sense of reassurance and safety he’s been missing for a years, ever since Keith vanished from his life the first time around. Lance just doesn’t know why that touch is back all of the sudden. “I’m just a little confused as to why it’s happening.”

“I know you’re upset or worried or whatever, because of what Iverson said,” Keith explains as though it’s obvious, gaze growing softer as he squeezes his hand again, moving closer to Lance so their thighs press together. Lance presses back against him, the solid warmth of Keith’s body pressed up against him. Keith gives him the same tight, determined look from before as his free hand finds his way to his knee. “And you shouldn’t be. You’re really smart Lance. You come up with plans and research I never could.”

“And you come up with stuff I never would instinctively,” Lance tells him as he squeezes his hand back, because he knows that sometimes people think Keith’s way of thinking can be … weird, for lack of a better word. Keith jumps from A to L without explaining how he got there, but Lance has never found it frustrating (okay, he has, but he also understands that’s his problem, not Keith’s).

“This isn’t about me,” Keith says firmly, though he gives Lance a brief smile, sweet and crooked as he leaned toward him. Then Keith looks more serious again, grip growing tighter as he stares up at Lance with a look of complete faith, bordering on adoration. “I just want you to know that I think you’re smart and that I have your back and that I care.”

“Keith,” Lance mumbles softly, bringing up one hand to brush a stray lock of Keith’s bangs behind his ear. Keith’s gaze is still determined, but it’s filled with a warm affection too, one that makes Lance let out a low sigh. Lance has never been looked at like that by anyone except, well, Keith before.

“I know I’m not good with words, I’ve heard myself speak before too,” Keith tells him with a sheepish smile, shaking his head a bit as a light flush comes over his face. “But when we were kids, I always tried to show you how much I cared like, well, this. And gifts, and I’m working on that one –“

“You don’t need to do that, Keith,” Lance murmurs as he glances over at the coffee cup and realizes it has his name written on it, the loop of the ‘L’ suddenly hitting him in the face. Lance smiles at the cup, eyebrows sloping down as Keith looks up at him with a small grin of his own. Lance resists the urge to remind Keith of all the random rocks and shells and small toys he used to bring Lance just because they reminded Keith of him. He still has them in his room back home. Maybe that collection is going to get big enough for a new box after all.

“Yes, I do,” Keith insists heatedly as he squeezes Lance’s hand and arm, pressing his face closer to Lance’s chest as he gives him a tight look. Keith seems to have figured out that Lance likes being cuddled, but … friends can cuddle for sure, Lance isn’t close-minded, and he and Keith did a bunch when they were kids. But Lance isn’t a cuddling friend now, and somehow he highly doubts that Keith is. “Lance, you’ve been there for me everyday since I got here. You pushed me when I would’ve spent the whole year alone otherwise.”

“I did those things because I wanted to, Keith,” Lance says softly as he presses back against Keith, giving him a tender look. His reasons for becoming friends with Keith aren’t entirely selfless anyway; he wanted Keith back in his life just like this, open and vulnerable at least with him, if not anybody else. Lance pushed Keith so there would still be a Keith that was _his_ on some level. The fact that his Keith is still there entirely, just behind more walls, has been more than Lance ever could’ve imagined.

“I know, but you and I are friends now and I want to do as much for you as you do for me,” Keith tells him in a firm voice as he curls up against him even more, head resting on his shoulder. Lance feels important and valued and strong, because Keith needs – no, that’s not how people work. Keith _chose_ him as someone special, and that’s even better. “And a part of that is being there for you as much as you have for me, in my own way.”

Lance gives Keith a crooked smile, gaze growing affectionate as he gently leans them back on the bed a little more. This is nice, this is _right_. “I won’t lie, having you hold my hand again does make me feel a little less insecure than I did a few hours ago.”

“You shouldn’t be insecure!” Keith cries vehemently, tone righteous as he pulls back a little to meet Lance’s gaze. He doesn’t entirely disentangle himself from Lance’s arms though, as though he doesn’t want to let go of him. Lance fights off a blush. “You’re smart and really good at tennis and a great friend, and you always keep me from making stupid decisions!”

“You really haven’t changed that much at all,” Lance sighs with a warm grin, brushing one finger over to tap Keith on the nose. Keith rolls his eyes, and this close up; Lance can’t help noticing the heavy bags under them. When is the last time Keith got a good night’s sleep? “Though speaking of stupid decisions, you look like you could use a nap.”

Keith mutters something under his breath, and opens their notebook, going over their notes and yawning every few minutes. Lance isn’t surprised when Keith falls asleep halfway through explaining a slide, and Lance nudges him over a little so he’s only half on top of him. Lance watches him breath, chest rhythmically moving up and down and remembers the look of adoration in his gaze from before with a soft smile. No, Keith hasn’t changed at all.

* * *

It’s the following Friday when they’re supposed to give their presentation. _Will_ give the presentation, Keith reminds himself as he walks into the classroom on unsteady legs. He doesn’t even remember going to the coffee shop or walking to class. Keith sits next to Lance, who gives him a once over and frowns tightly as Keith slides him the coffee he doesn’t remember buying. Lance opens his mouth, but Keith shakes his head, because he’ll be okay. He’s been this tired before, it’s nothing new. He just needs to down his coffee and find something to focus on.

Keith tries to take notes on everyone else’s research, but mostly he just ends up doodling, gazing off in the distance without processing anything. Lance taps his shoulders a few times, and Keith tries to give him a reassuring smile. He doesn’t want Lance worrying that he’s going to sleep through their presentation. Keith forces himself to focus on his steps as they make their way to the front of the room, his entire body feeling strangely heavy and warm. Keith leans against the podium and ignores the worried looks Lance keeps sending him. He’ll be fine.

“Aliens, are they real? Not real? And more importantly have we made contact with them?” Lance asks, throwing his arms out wide as he glances across the room. Lance smiles brightly as his gaze sweeps across the room. Their classmates’ expressions range from intrigued to bewildered, but no one looks bored. Keith smiles over at Lance softly, proudly. “Keith and I aren’t here to answer those questions for you, but we are here to tell you about people who thought they had.”

“Right, starting with a place called Area 51,” Keith says on cue, forcing himself to keep his smile as he glances anxiously across the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. He shrugs his shoulders, gazing at the floor before he finishes his part of their opening. “You’ve probably heard of it. It’s in Nevada.”

Laughter rings out across the room and Keith fights back a flush as he fidgets with his pen. He wishes he had something bigger to hold onto right now, but this will work. At least it’s keeping him from focusing on how light-headed he feels right now. Maybe this is a worse than the other times he didn’t get enough sleep for a few days (okay, weeks) in a row. Keith still manages to get through explaining his slides, voice awkward and distant even to his own ears, a sharp contrast to the charming warmth of Lance’s sections. Still, he gets through it and that’s what matters.

Keith lets go of the podium and takes a few steps forward on shaky legs, vision blurring a little as he tries to lurch forward. Next to him, Lance reaches an arm out, expression tight with worry Keith tries to shake off. At least it’s only a few feet to his desk, maybe once he gets back to his coffee things will -

Keith blinks owlishly as his vision slowly comes back to him, confused to find himself staring up at the ceiling tiles with vision that’s just as blurry as before. A few seconds later Lance’s face, just as beautiful as always but also looking like it’s in soft focus, comes over him. Keith reaches a hand out weakly, brushing it against Lance’s arm as the other boy moves in closer to him. Keith feels a little better now, though a part of him is nervous about trying to sit up. Which, why is he on the floor in the first place? “What happened?”

“You kind of fainted?” Lance mutters with a small sigh as he grabs Keith’s waist gently, his long fingers spreading down to the top of Keith’s jeans as he helps him into a sitting position. Definitely still a little fuzzy.

“Oh,” Keith mumbles as he looks down, because now that Lance says that, it makes sense. Keith’s still embarrassed, blushing a little as he pushes himself to his feet too fast, dizziness washing over him again. Lance slides an arm across his waist and steadies him, and Keith can’t help but lean into him even as his flush deepens, spreading down to his neck. “Sorry.”

“Keith, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Lance groans, shaking his head a little as they take a few steps forward. Keith wonders when Lance is going to let go of his waist. He’s pretty sure he can walk without help now that he’s upright. “Here, I’ll walk you to the health center, though given how little you sleep I bet I can guess your diagnosis.”

“I’m fine,” Keith insists as he tries to pull away from Lance, because he’s not going to the health center. That’s unnecessary and well, kind of humiliating. It’s Keith’s own fault he fainted, he should’ve taken better care of himself. Keith doesn’t need medicine, he just needs to sleep it off and eat a few more protein bars.

Lance raises an eyebrow at Keith, lips suddenly pressing into a thin line. Lance’s gaze is hard and chiding, shaking his head gently as he eyebrows push together. Keith remembers the expression from his childhood, how Lance would look at him like that whenever Keith did anything dangerous or hurt himself. It used to annoy him, but now it just makes Keith feel … safe. “Keith, you just fainted.”

“I – okay,” Keith says in defeat as the look on Lance’s face grows even more stern. Lance smiles brightly as Keith gives in, grip growing tighter as he carefully walks them out of the classroom and into the courtyard.

Luckily it’s not very far to the health center, which is empty outside of one or two people. Keith tells Lance he’ll be fine, but Lance insists on sitting with him in the waiting room and then while they run the tests, cheerfully reading Keith out headlines the school magazine. Keith chuckles softly as the doctor walks out of the room, some of his anxiety fading as Lance wriggles his eyebrows at him.

“You didn’t need to wait with me,” Keith murmurs once the doctor is gone, even though he’s glad Lance is here. Keith hasn’t liked hospitals since he was a kid. They remind him of his dad, ghosts whispering about his sins in every corner of the room.

“Hey, I don’t have anywhere else to be anyway,” Lance tells him with a slow smile, standing up from the plastic chair in the corner room (okay, maybe this wasn’t quite the same as a real hospital) and walking over to the bed Keith’s sitting on, legs dangling a few feet above the ground. Lance leans toward Keith, grin growing more playful as he glances around the room. “Besides, I’ve never been here before, so it’s kind of like an adventure.”

“Most adventures don’t end with someone getting anemia,” Keith says with a scoff, shaking his head a little as he slides off of the bed. He won’t know for sure that it’s anemia until he gets his blood test back, but it’s the doctor’s best bet. But between the lack of iron and vitamins and well, anything else Keith has been getting lately, Keith wouldn’t be surprised.

“Well, you’ve always been special,” Lance murmurs as he brushes his shoulder against Keith’s, letting out a small laugh as they walk out of the room. Keith grins back at him, playfully rolling his eyes at him as they walk into the fresh air.

“Thanks,” Keith snorts, bumping their shoulders together again as they keep walking towards their dorm. The sun’s already starting to dip down. It must be almost 6 PM now. Keith winces a little, eyebrows scrunching together as he glances up at Lance and bites his lip. He hasn’t even thought about how long they were in there. “You shouldn’t have waited, I’m sure you have somewhere else you’d rather be on a Friday night.”

“I was gonna celebrate how well our presentation went with you, but I figure now we’ll get some takeout with a lot of protein and watch anime,” Lance says with a bright smile, finally letting go of Keith’s waist as they reach the front of their dorm. Keith finds that he misses the touch, glancing over at Lance’s hand with a little bit of longing. They walk the rest of the way to Lance’s room without saying anything, Keith’s anxieties coming back to him step by step. Lance wasted a whole afternoon on him.

“I mean it, you don’t need to,” Keith insists despite that, staring over at Lance and swallowing deeply. He doesn’t want Lance to give more things up for him. Lance shouldn’t have to, no one else ever has except Shiro and Keith is failing him too. None of this is okay.

“Keith, we’re friends, I _want_ to,” Lance assures him with a scoff, glancing over at him as he goes through his piles of movies. That’s what breaks the camel’s back for Keith.

“You shouldn’t want to be my friend if I’m failing!” Keith snaps before he can stop himself, crossing his arms as he glares tightly at Lance. Lance’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t move away from Keith like most people do, and Keith’s anger quickly turns into the anxiety he’s feeling on the inside. Words pour out of him before he can stop himself. “I can’t keep up with my work and soccer and the ROTC, I’m trying but it’s too much and I’m stressed all the time and yesterday Iverson said I wasn’t living up to my potential –“

“Keith, breath,” Lance murmurs as he gently grabs Keith’s wrist, pulling him down onto the bed next to him. Lance slides an arm around his shoulder, the other hand pressing against his knee. Keith takes a deep breath and tries to calm down even though his heart feels like it’s trying to burst out of his chest. “While I’m glad Iverson’s not only a jerk to me, you’re doing fine, better than even. And if you are so tired, why don’t you quit the ROTC? You’ve got a sports and academic scholarship already. It’s fine if you can’t balance all three.”

“Shiro could,” Keith whispers softly, the weight of what’s really wrong finally washing over him. Shiro has plans for Keith, expectations, and Keith isn’t living up to any of them.

“You’re not Shiro and that’s okay, Keith. You’re great all on your own,” Lance says softly as he pulls Keith closer to him, so they’re leaning back against the pillows. Lance gives him a piercing look, gently raising one eyebrow. “Do you even want to be in the army?”

Keith blinks a little, shaking his head for a second because that question is ridiculous. Shiro saved him, of course he wants to follow in his footsteps. But … that’s not what Lance asked. “Not really, I just … thanks Lance.”

Lance gives him a small nod and pulls Keith closer to him, hands brushing against his cheek for a moment. Then, as though a spell is broken, they pull apart, both of them flushing as they argue over if they should watch _Moana_ or _A Nightmare Before Christmas._

* * *

Lance leans back against his bed, legs crossed as he types, deletes, and starts over his email to his sister Maya for the third time this morning, trying to think of how to sum up the past two months in a few paragraphs. It’s not going well. It’s not that Lance doesn’t talk to his siblings all the time, he texted Maya about Legend of Zelda an hour ago. But telling them he found Keith again after almost six years is a lot harder than classes or video games. His family knew Keith, and while Lance knows Keith is the same emotional, loyal, stubborn boy as before, he also knows it can take a little bit of time to find that Keith behind all his defensive walls.

And Lance knows that his family, friendly and boisterous and huge, can be a little overwhelming for someone as shy and anxious as Keith is. But Keith had also liked all of them, came over for breakfast some days, and Lance wants that again. He wants Keith sitting next to him, adding to much sugar to his coffee, talking to Maya about nature documentaries. Lance knows it won’t be the same, but he also knows that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Lance shuts his computer lid as he hears a knock on the bathroom door. The email can wait for later.

“Lance? Are you in here?” Keith’s voice rings out when Lance gets halfway across the room, a hint of nervousness to it. Lance frowns a bit as he grabs the door handle and slides it open, quirking one eyebrow as Keith stares back at him with wide eyes. Lance’s gaze softens as he takes in Keith’s sweatpants and messy hair, like he maybe just woke up and wanted to talk to Lance right away.

“Yeah, Keith,” Lance answers with a small chuckle as he steps to the side, glancing down at his own blue hoodie and white gym shorts. He kind of wishes he’d changed after his run. Though he doesn’t miss the quick once over Keith gives him or the way he quickly looks away, a light blush spreading across the bridge of his nose for a moment. This might be a better look for him than he thought. “You look a little less tired than yesterday.”

“I haven’t fainted yet,” Keith admits with a crooked smile as he walks over to stand by the bed, crossing his arms against his chest for a second and then uncrossing them just as quickly.

“So, what’s up?” Lance asks as he cocks his head over at Lance, scrunching his eyebrows together as he watches Keith rub his fingers over his thumb. Keith glances back at him and then back down at the carpet, expression tight as he gazes at the floor and digs his feet into the rug. Keith is nervous, but Lance notices it’s less frightened, less negative than his usual anxiety. There’s something soft and sweet to it, hopeful in a way that makes Lance’s own stomach do flip flops, as though the feeling is contagious.

“I dropped out of the ROTC. Iverson’s mad, but I figure it’s better this way,” Keith says softly as his gaze drops back to the ground, the pace of his fingers against his thumb growing faster as he speaks. Lance slides a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly so Keith will know that he’s not upset. Keith glances up at him with a small smile. “I wanted to tell you first, since it was your idea.”

“I’m happy, if that’s what you want,” Lance assures him as he squeezes his shoulder, fighting off his own nerves for a second. Lance doesn’t want Keith to do things just because he wants him too. But then Keith nods, soft and sure, smiling up at Lance with a warm gaze. Lance lets out a small sigh of relief as he pulls his hands back. “Well good.”

Keith takes a deep breath, gaze taking on that determined edge it can sometimes as he stares over at Lance. Lance raises an eyebrow and nods a little, wondering why Keith is _still_ nervous. “Thanks. Do you want to maybe, get breakfast?”

“Sure Keith,” Lance murmurs even though it’s closer to lunchtime, grinning as he glances over at his dresser. He’d never show up in the dining hall like this, and Keith’s basically wearing glorified pajamas. Lance starts to turn toward the dresser when he freezes, turning on his heel as a conversation in Dr. Coran’s astrophysics class comes back to him. Lance thinks Keith might not be the only one needing to say thank you tonight. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Keith answers with a shrug as he walks over to Lance, so there’s barely any space between them. Lance has no idea how Keith went from keeping him at arm’s length to not knowing what personal space is, but Lance can’t say that he minds.

Lance grins as he throws his arm out, trying to keep his gaze warm but also a little bit teasing just in case he’s wrong. He doesn’t want things to get awkward. “They said Iverson started talking shit about one of the S.T.E.M. kids, a very handsome and talented one, and one of the ROTC kids started arguing with him about how great they were. The tiny angry one.”

“They call me that?” Keith mutters, crossing his arms a little tighter as he shoots Lance a surprised look, mouth pressing into a thin line. Lance raises an eyebrow at him, shaking his head a little. He can’t believe that’s the part of what he said that surprised Keith. Except wait. Keith just confirmed that he _is_ the tiny angry one, which means that Keith … Keith …

“You got into a fight with _Iverson_ because he called me dumb?” Lance asks as his eyes widen, mouth hanging open as he stares at Keith. He’s kind of in shock here. Keith risked his entire academic career – because Iverson can try and get both of them thrown out of the STEM program as easily as he can just Lance – because Iverson has been a jerk to him.

“Yeah?” Keith mumbles softly as he shrugs his shoulders, gazing up at Lance from under his eyelashes. He looks soft and vulnerable like this, almost fragile.

Except no, that’s not right either. Keith is a lot of things, but not fragile. Keith’s one of the strongest people Lance has ever met, always pushing forward where other people would give up, fighting for himself and the people he loves with every last breath he’s got. If anything, he doesn’t let himself be vulnerable. Except with Lance. Lance who sees Keith’s crooked smiles and soft gaze, who gets to hear the gentle anxiety in his voice when he’s worried. Keith trusts Lance and Keith defends him, protects him just as much as Lance protects him. Keith yelled at a professor because of how much he likes him.

Lance doesn’t even know what he’s doing as he leans forward, closing the space between them as he slides a hand across Keith’s face, fingers spreading out across his jaw. Keith stares at him with wide eyes, lips pressing into a small ‘o’, and Lance can feel his breath on his cheek. Then he can’t as Lance presses their lips together, his other hand finding it’s way to Keith’s waist and lingering there. For a second Keith is stiff as plywood against him and Lance is afraid he made a mistake, but then he kisses back, sweet and hesitant, one hand sliding against Lance’s hip.

“Well, this went better than when we 12,” Lance says when they break the kiss a few seconds later, his gaze warm as he stares down at Keith. Keith gazes back at him, with wide eyes face a little flushed. “Well for me. I’m kind of hoping it did for you too.”

“It did,” Keith whispers in a soft voice, his free hand coming up to lie on top of the one on Keith’s waist. Lance smiles as Keith laces their fingers together, slowly pulling their arms down. Lance squeezes his hand as he cradles Keith’s face for another second, fingers lingering against Keith’s cheeks for a moment before he finally slides his hand from Keith’s cheek to his shoulder. Suddenly Keith grins, slow and surprisingly flirtatious. “Wait, so. Do you _like_ me?”

“Keith, I’ve liked you since we were 12,” Lance snorts as he pokes him on the shoulder lightly, shaking his head a little bit as Keith shrugs, smile becoming a bit more like a smirk. Lance likes soft, blushing Keith, but he has to admit confident, teasing Keith is pretty hot too. “It didn’t really go away so much as get put on hold until I found you again.”

“Oh,” Keith mutters softly, the teasing quality fading as he blushes again. Keith’s gaze is soft and adoring as he squeezes Lance’s hand. Lance smirks a little himself this time, pride and affection rushing through him as Keith speaks. “I still like you too. Romantically, I mean. Shiro and Allura thought we were going on a date on Friday.”

“Wait you do?” Lance asks after a beat with wide eyes. Keith stares at him, then down at their hands, and back at him like Lance is playing a joke on him. Lance lets out a small chuckle, shrugging sheepishly as Keith stares at him in understandable confusion. “Sorry, I just, you’re Keith and I’m Lance. I’m insecure and I never know when to take things seriously and I can be kind of obnoxious –“

“And I can be short with people and I take everything too seriously and I’m much more insecure than I seem,” Keith points out as raises an eyebrow, smirk coming back as he leans into Lance. Keith brings his other hand to lie against Lance’s shoulder.

“I guess we’re still a little bit alike after all,” Lance says with a grin as he presses their foreheads together, bringing up his other hand to lie against Keith’s jaw again. Keith brings his up from Lance’s shoulder to slide it across his cheek instead, squeezing his other hand again as he leans in and presses their lips together. Keith’s kiss is passionate and a little sloppy, perfectly imperfect and perfectly Keith. Lance kisses Keith back gently, tipping his head up a little so they’re at a better angle.

“Guess so,” Keith murmurs warmly, a little out of breath as he stares up at Lance. Lance smiles back at him tenderly, resisting the urge to kiss him again until Keith finishes his sentence. “Thank you, for I – mean. You made the first move again.”

Lance grins playfully as he pulls Keith a few inches toward the wall, wriggling his eyebrows as he gestures at the bed. Keith raises one of his own, smirking a little as he suddenly slides onto the bed, sprawling out across the sheets like he belongs there. “Any chance you want to get take out and watch _Big Hero Six_ here instead of going out?”

Keith smiles softly as he reaches his arms out toward Lance, fluttering his eyelashes exaggeratedly. Lance chortles as he slides into Keith’s arms, one of his own wrapping around his shoulder as he pulls Keith’s head into the crook of his neck, legs tangled together. Lance thinks he could get used to this.


	5. Second Love

Keith clicks on his account for the third that morning, letting out a low groan and running a hand through his hair when he’s faced with a blank page. He takes a bite of muffin with a huff, shaking his head as he tries to distract himself. A few seconds later Keith presses the refresh button again, only to be meant with the same blank page. Keith tugs on the edge of his one of his fingerless wool gloves, lifting up his hand to press refresh when suddenly the lid of his computer went down with a low thud. Keith stares at the cobalt gloves in front of him, long, lean fingers spread out over the top.

Keith glances up to find Lance’s teasing grin, curls falling messily over his forehead as he sits down in the chair across from Keith. Keith shoots him a glare without any heat; even as he crosses his arms and leans forward so they’re foreheads are almost touching. “Lance!”

“You’re grades will added when they get added,” Lance tells him with a shrug, smiling brightly as Lance takes a sip of his own coffee. Keith tugs on his gloves again, shaking his head tightly as he stares at his computer. He’s pretty sure Lance would just shut it again if he tried to open it. Lance raises an eyebrow, something gentle and teasing entering his gaze as he presses his hand over Keith’s own. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you didn’t bomb any of your finals.”

“I’m bad at studying,” Keith groans as he presses one hand his right eye, the other lacing his fingers through Lance’s own and squeezing his hand softly.

“Oh, I’m aware, but you’re very good at forcing yourself to,” Lance says in a slightly warmer voice, as he squeezes Keith’s hand. Keith slides his other hand down from his cheek and back to the table, glancing up at Lance sheepishly. He’s not surprised to find the other boy smirking at him playfully. Once Keith gave himself permission not to work 24/7 hours a day, his childhood inability to focus on anything he isn’t into right now came back with a vengeance. “I’ve been very impressed over the past three months.”

“Three months, it’s our first month anniversary,” Keith tells him, eyebrows shooting up as Lance gives him a quick nod. Lance smiles at him softly, raising an eyebrow as Keith leans over and slides his bright red backpack onto the table. Keith digs through it; pulling out a sloppily wrapped box, light blue wrapping sticking out in awkward directions. Keith nervously slides it forward, crossing his arms as Lance picks it up and stares at the box with wide eyes. “Here.”

“You already had a gift?” Lance asks as he scrunches his eyebrows together, shaking his softly. Lance gives Keith a gentle smile; gaze warm with affection as he brushes his hand over the box. Then Lance frowns a little, gaze growing a bit tight as he stares over at his own backpack with a hint of worry.

“I mean, I got it a few years ago, just … it reminded me of you,” Keith assures him with a small smile, gaze dropping to the table as he fiddles with the edge of one of his gloves, pulling on a loose thread.

“Keith,” Lance murmurs in a soft voice as he leans forward, reaching out the hand not holding the box to grab one of Keith’s again. Keith smiles back at him for a moment, crooked and nervous, gazing over at him as he waits for Lance to open the box. And waits. Lance turns it over in his hand again, studying the crinkled wrapping paper as though it’s going to reveal the secrets of the universe to him. Keith lets out a low sigh, shaking his head as he sees Lance smirk over at him. He’s doing this on purpose.

“Just open it,” Keith mumbles as he crosses his arms, some of his anxiety fading away a bit in the face of his fond annoyance. It comes back in full force when Lance starts to peel back the first layer of wrapping paper.

“Okay, okay,” Lance says with a bright laugh as he starts to rip the paper with more gusto. He lays each shred of wrapping paper in the middle of the table, and Keith tugs at a few of them, rolling them into a ball as a way to keep his mind off of Lance’s reaction. It doesn’t help, and especially not when Lance lets out a small gasp. “It’s a necklace with a shark tooth and a blue lapis.”

“Yeah,” Keith mutters softly as he glances up at the necklace, a thick white cord with a shark tooth and small stone in the center, the sun glinting off of them in cold November air. Keith gives him another shaky smile, eyebrows sloping down as Lance squeezes his hand. “I put it on a new string, so it’s probably as long as you’re neck? It’s from Florida. You said you liked visiting there, so I umm. Made you that when I was there.”

“Keith, I’m going to kiss you now,” Lance tells him firmly before leaning over the table and grasping Keith by both sides of his head. He can feel the white cord pressing against his cheeks, but then he forgets the feeling of anything but Lance’s lips on his own, warm and a little chapped from the fall air. Keith flushes a little when Lance pulls back and gives him a wide smile. “You’re adorable.”

“No, I’m not,” Keith whines a bit, pouting slightly as he presses his elbows into the table. Lance lets out a scoff as he shakes his head a bit, holding the necklace up in the air as he stares at it admiringly.

“Okay, fine, you’re ugly,” Lance says with a shrug, ignoring the way Keith rolls his eyes. Lance presses the necklace to his throat, linking the clasp together and then sliding the cord around so the shark tooth and lapis stone sit across the front of his grey sweater. The stone matches the same blue of Lance’s eyes, fluid and soft and Keith can’t help biting his lip as he glances between the two of them, even after Lance starts to look worried. “… I’m not serious.”

“Oh,” Keith whispers with a low exhale, because he hadn’t been worried about that anyway. Keith has no idea if he’s attractive or not, and he doesn’t care as long as Lance thinks he is. Keith gives Lance a warm smile as he squeezes his hand again, reaching his other hand over to brush it over the top of Lance’s with a slow grin.

Lance gives him a playful smile as he laces their other hand together, letting out a small snort as he gives Keith a fond look. “You know, we don’t live that far apart, from what Shiro said. You guys in Houston, me in Austin now.”

“It’s three hours,” Keith says with a quick nod, biting his lip a little as he imagines the distance. He’s spent six years apart from Lance before, but after spending three months next door to him, it’s weird to imagine going back to not seeing him everyday even if it is only for a few weeks. Keith blinks owlishly, a little surprised at how quickly he got used to having Lance in his life again.

“That’s not so bad,” Lance murmurs as he grins over at Keith, letting go of his right hand to grab his coffee. Lance takes a sip and wriggles his eyebrows as he brushes his thumb over Keith’s wrist. “Besides, I like buses.”

“I don’t mind them,” Keith tells him with a small smile taking a bit of his muffin. Keith traces little patterns into Lance’s palm as they make plans to spend at least one weekend together before break is over. By the time they head back to their dorm, it’s two.

* * *

Lance slides into his favorite corner seat at the library on Saturday, a small, worn red and blue love seat with a table in front of it. Lance didn’t get the appeal when he first started coming here, but now that he has an octopus of a boyfriend, Lance gets it. Lance opens up his computer, typing in the address and takes a deep breath. Then he glances around the café, shaking his head a little bit when he still doesn’t see anyone else in here.

Lance promised he’d wait to check his grades until Keith got here, but it’s almost ten minutes past when they agreed to meet and he’s nowhere in sight. Lance drums one hand against the table, giving the room another once over when he suddenly feels a soft tap on his shoulder and sees a coffee being slip in front of him.

Keith grins down at him as he leans over the other side of the couch, bright red scarf hanging over and tickling Lance in the face. Keith’s got his phone in his right hand, and Lance can see the school’s website on it from the corner of his eye. Keith lingers where he’s standing for a few minutes, and Lance wonders if Keith’s trying to remember what it feels like to be tall (Lance has since found out that Keith lost that feeling in 8th grade when everyone else grew and he didn’t). “So ready to find out if we kept our scholarships?”

“Not really,” Lance admits with a bit of a groan as Keith finally swings around the couch arm and lands on the side of it. Keith slides closer to him, holding his phone out so it’s next to Lance’s computer screen. Then Lance glances over at him with a small smile, eyebrows sloping down as he leans toward Keith. “But I’m not quite as anxious about the S.T.E.M. program as I was a week ago, so that’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Keith murmurs warmly, gaze a little distant as his screen slowly starts to load the page. Then Keith glances over at him, scrunching his eyebrows together as meets Lance’s gaze and slides his lips into a small ‘o’. “Wait, why?”

“Dr. Coran asked me to do research him with him next semester and over the summer,” Lance tells him, trying to keep his voice casual as he leans back against the couch, sliding an arm around Keith’s shoulder. Lance stares over at his computer as it loads his grades, and Lance lets out a small sigh of relief as he sees the right mix of A’s and B’s to keep his scholarship intact. He glances down to see that Keith’s look about the same, his boyfriend looking up at him with a slow smile.

“Lance, that’s awesome!” Keith cries suddenly, as though he wasn’t able to process Lance’s words until he knew they were both staying. Keith loops his arm through Lance’s own, curling his fingers around his wrist as he gazes up at Lance with affection and pride, Lance filling with warmth from his head all the way down to his toes. He could get used to someone looking at him like that. “You deserve it, you’re presentation on aerodynamics was the best one.”

“You’re biased,” Lance says with a playful chuckle, brushing a hand down Keith’s arm. Keith shakes his head, mouthing ‘no’ as he leans in, so their thighs are pressed together.

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you’re not a genius,” Keith points out with a quick shrug. Keith slides his hand over to rest it against Lance’s thighs boldly, though the bright flush across his cheeks and nose tell a different story. Keith’s gazing up at him with such total faith that Lance feels his stomach do a flip. Lance knows that when Keith believes in someone or something, he gives his whole heart to it, he always has. Lance is happy that includes him again. Lance hopes that never stops again.

“Guess not, but you know who’s even smarter than me?” Lance asks with a slow grin, quirking an eyebrow as he pulls Keith closer to him. Keith blinks owlishly for a second, cocking his head. Lance bites back a snort as Keith’s eyes widen with understanding and then his gaze grows hooded and playful as Keith leans into him. Keith slides part of his thigh over the top of Lance’s, and Lance moves his legs a little so Keith’s a bit more on top of him. “My _boyfriend_.”

“Nope,” Keith says as he shakes his head, black bangs falling haphazardly over his face. Keith grips one of his hands with his own as he shifts a little bit, glancing up at Lance with a wide grin. Lance pulls Keith in just a tiny bit more, brushing one of his bangs out of his eyes. Lance raises an eyebrow as Keith looks up at him under his eyelashes, smirking confidently as he shifts even more on to Lance’s right thigh. “Besides, mine’s also really hot.”

“Well mine’s adorable,” Lance tells him with a bright smile, wriggling his eyebrows as Keith slides further onto him. Keith rolls his eyes again, even as the flush from before comes back over his cheeks, in a way it never does when he calls Keith ‘hot' or ‘sexy’. Lance files that information away later and wraps his arm around Keith a little tighter. “And he’s super loyal and driven, you’ve never met someone who tries harder.”

“Trying is overrated unless you succeed,” Keith argues in a light voice as he leans over to playfully poke Lance in the cheek. Lance frowns at his words, and then puts that thought away for later as he pulls Keith closer to his chest. There’s something sweetly oblivious about Keith when tries to flirt, as though he gets so focused that he forgets about everything else. “my boyfriend is patient and practical and he’s really charming.”

“Well, my boyfriend is …” Lance starts and then stops as he glances down with a chortle. Keith is completely in his lap now, legs dangling over his thighs and the edge of the love seat. “Very cuddly.”

“Well, my boyfriend is support- oh, you mean because I’m sitting in your lap,” Keith realizes mid compliment, blush deepening as he squirms a little against Lance’s thigh, shoulders brushing against his chest. Lance feels Keith start to shift back and wraps his arms around his waist, smoothly sliding Keith around so his back is pressed against Lance’s chest. Keith leans forward just enough to twist his neck around to shoot Lance a tight glare, pouting a little. “Let me go, Lance!”

“You’re the one who climbed into my lap,” Lance reminds him with a cock of his head, smile impish as snuggles Keith to his chest again. Lance expects Keith to struggle, but this time Keith just leans back against him, hair brushing under Lance’s chin as Keith slides his fingers across Lance’s thigh. “You really can’t resist me, can you?”

“I’m suddenly finding the will too,” Keith snorts even as he makes no move to climb off of Lance’s lap yet, leaning his head back against Lance’s chest like he’s meant to be there. Lance wishes he could see the look on Keith’s face, see if it matches the contented, almost purring rhythm of his chest. Then Keith gives him a small nudge with his right elbow and Lance finally pulls his hand back from Keith’s waist and lets him slide back onto the seat next to him.

“Fine, fine, drink your disgusting coffee,” Lance says with a low sigh, shaking his head tightly in mock disgust as he throws his other arm out in the air with his fingers spread. He glances around the empty café, most everyone else having gone home for break already, and smiles softly. Keith never would’ve climbed into his lap otherwise.

“You just don’t appreciate sugar, you never did,” Keith mutters, trying and failing to meet Lance’s dramatic tone, though he’s adorable trying.

“No, but I’ve learned how to appreciate some sweet things lately,” Lance points out with a playful smile, glancing over at Keith with hooded eyes. Keith blinks for a second and then bites his lip, expression going soft as he slumps toward Lance like no one’s ever called him that before. Maybe no one has. “Here take a sip.”

Lance leans in and presses his lips onto Keith’s own, smiling into the kiss as he feels Keith’s hand press against his cheek. Lance breaks the kiss after a second, meeting Keith’s soft gaze with a warm one of his own as Keith leans in so their foreheads touch. “Still gross.”

Their laughter feels the air a moment later, warm and infectious like it hasn’t been since they were kids. Lance thinks he can get used to this too.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Keith and Lance stroll around campus arm in arm, one last date before they both go home later that day. Keith squeezes Lance’s arm as he points out a tree, muttering something about how its leaves change, though it barely has any left. Lance nods along, giving Keith a tender smile as Keith’s face lights up with rarely seen excitement. Keith returns it with a crooked one of his own as he pulls him under the tree, gazing up at Lance sheepishly. It takes Lance a second, but then he remembers. It’s the same tree they were standing by when Lance first realized Keith was Keith.

“I hope it snows by the time we get back from Texas,” Lance murmurs as he leans against the tree, pulling Keith a long with him. Keith shakes his head a little but lets himself be pressed up against the bark, fingers brushing against the side of it gently. Lance half expects Keith to start telling him facts about this tree too, but instead Keith just smiles at him, gaze surprisingly sweet for a moment.

“Really?” Keith asks after a beat as he scrunches his eyebrows, lips twisting into a tight frown as he squeezes Lance’s hand. Lance raises an eyebrow and Keith lets out a low sigh. Then his voice grows small and a little childish, and just for a moment Keith is 12 and standing by the bleachers again. “I hate the snow, you can’t do anything fun in it.”

“Maybe it’s time we got you some more indoor friendly hobbies,” Lance murmurs as he runs his fingers over Keith’s wrist gently. Lance smiles over at Keith warmly, gaze teasing as Keith glares over at him. Somehow it doesn’t feel angry anymore.

“I read,” Keith huffs as he crosses one arm over his chest, ignoring how it doesn’t really work when the other just tugs Lance closer to him. Lance lets out a small scoff, eyebrows scrunching together as he moves into that space. Keith wants to be annoyed, but he doesn’t really mind as he presses closer to Lance. Keith leans in, impulsively kissing Lance on the cheek, brushing the edge of Lance’s lip with his mouth.

“Less boring indoor hobbies,” Lance says with a small shrug, leaning in so his forehead presses against Keith’s nose for a moment. Lance’s gaze grows a little wistful as he thinks back to them sitting in his room as kids, Keith pouting over their summer reading list while Lance tried to show him his bug collection. Keith always hated reading. “You were kind of right, after all.”

“Huh?” Keith asks Lance, cocking his head a little bit as he makes a confused face, eyebrows scrunching together and his hair brushing against Lance’s forehead. He’s not sure what he’s right about, but he likes the expression it put in Lance’s eyes, nostalgic but not longing this time.

Lance squeezes Lance’s hands softly, brushing his lips against Keith’s forehead as thinks about all the ways Keith’s changed. He’s more determined, more driven, more confident about what he can do and what he’s capable of than they ever were as kids. But he’s also more insecure in other ways, less sure of who he is or what he needs, defensive in some places where he used to be soft and soft in moments Lance doesn't expect. And Lance is learning to like all of those things too. “You did change, but so did I.”

“Yeah, I guess we both did,” Keith murmurs in a soft voice, eyebrows sloping down as he slides one hand across Lance’s cheek. Lance is right, he’s changed too. Lance is friendlier, more open and bright than when they were kids and the entire world was just the two of them. But Lance is also less sure of himself, less aware of how he’s important and special and necessary, more defensive about it. Both those things make Keith care about Lance even more, and he didn’t even think that was possible.

“But you’re still _my_ Keith,” Lance whispers as he brushes one of Keith’s bangs behind his ear, gaze softening even more as he kisses his forehead again. Because Keith is also still the same sweet, loyal boy with two many feelings and impulses for one body, as vulnerable as he is strong.

“Always,” Keith promises as he squeezes Lance’s hand and giving him another quick kiss. Lance is still the same kind-hearted, supportive guy who could be a little too loud, too silly (or maybe Keith’s too serious), so much braver and wiser than Lance thinks he is. Keith wants to show him just how _important_ he is. He hopes this is all a good start.

Lance and Keith walk away from the tree after the next kiss, arm in arm, shoulders brushing together as they make their way back towards their dorm. The wind is biting, but they just pull closer together.

(This time no one disappears).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the epilogue.
> 
> To anyone who saw the previous additional chapter "Author's Note" I apologize for being dramatic. I've talked to a friend and realized that I was A: overreacting and B: the stories are dated so it is clear *when* I wrote them anyway. If you didn't see that chapter, please don't worry about it one way or the other, I was just being silly.


End file.
